Goodbye my love

It is so hard to say goodbye and especially to the one I never thought I would have to.

I remember clearly the day I met you 2 years ago, It was mother’s day weekend..I was the happiest person on earth that day because  becoming a mother was the best gift I ever received in my life and each mother’s day, I celebrate the joy of being a mom. Then I found you….Ah ! the excitement of bringing something new to my ordinary life.

I must say, initially I thought, you were useless. I could never figure out how you worked and you were so different from my previous loves..But over the months, you became a part of are a walking dictionary and you taught me so much. How can I ever forget words  ‘Salacious’, ‘paean’ etc

I think more than anything, I was grateful for the fact that you made it easier for me to stay in touch with my friends and family. You opened the doors of communication.

Each morning, I looked forward to spending time with you while I drank my earl grey..Every day there was something new to discover, something new to learn..

This morning, I felt useless without you..How can I ever live without you?

Now that I have to say goodbye to you for no faults of mine, I dedicate this song for you.

You are in my my soul..

Goodbye my iphone..



Reality shows have never been my cup of tea and I was even more convinced of their uselessness when the school PAC meeting was cancelled one fine Thursday evening because the PAC president didn’t want to miss the season finale of Survivor ! It was obvious that knowing who won the competition was much more important than the future of our children.

When my children were little, I wanted them to read and restricted their TV time and the TV restrictions were still in force when we came to Australia. Friends of my son told him many times that “your mother is weird” because I didn’t let my son watch Masterchef  and of course he wasn’t allowed to play MA games. His friends combined the two rules and told him Masterchef was classified under general category, so there is no real reason why my son shouldn’t watch it.

My reasons were pretty simple..Reality shows are controlled environment, where the producers manipulate human behaviour to suit the ratings. When you watch a movie, there is a story with a start and end and except you paying for the ticket, you don’t hold any control of the outcome of the movie. In a reality show the end is determined by making you believe that you hold the power to choose the winner by sending your vote !! And then the tears, the tantrums, the bitchiness, the attitude…I don’t see the reason why I must subject myself and my children to such atrocious behaviour that are now accepted as normal behaviour.

A very dear friend of mine didn’t miss a single episode of recent masterchef/or one of the cooking show because “apna” ( our own/Indian) person is a contestant and  just as my mother prayed for some dude in Kerala to win the idea star singer competition because he came from a poor family.

I am sure my son must have found it difficult to explain to his friends why he never watched masterchef or other reality shows..

Last Sunday, Yaya borrowed Truman show DVD from the library. I am not a fan of Jim Carrey, however this is one of my favourite movies and  I had hoped one day my children would watch it.

After the movie my son told me ” So this was the reason why you never let us watch reality shows eh?”

I smiled and gently nodded my head. ( But what I really wanted to do was scream “yes” and do a war dance, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment)

Little women.

If my sisters saw Yaya today, they would certainly say that “Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree” and each of them would have found a bit of themselves in Yaya.

This morning, Yaya wore a tee shirt with the collar snipped off. Even after my kids were born, I could still wear my sister’s clothes, but I didn’t wear  my youngest sister’s tee shirts because she always snipped/chopped/ripped the collar and to me it looked pretty unsightly. If she wanted to remove the collar, she could have at least cut it off neatly, but No, she does such a bad job that the tee shirt looked like it was chewed by a rabid dog. The tee shirt Yaya wore this morning looked like it was chewed by a rabid dog without the collar and the edges all jagged. I can almost picture my youngest sister rolling on the floor and laughing because I used to get so mad at her for damaging perfectly fine tee shirts and now my own child is doing the same.

My oldest sister would have smiled too if she saw Yaya this morning. First of all, Yaya looks exactly like my sister and the way she wears all the accessories is ditto like my sister ( everything matches and she will not leave home unless everything is perfect)and like her, Yaya is a walking cloud of deodorant.

You can normally see my middle sister, when Yaya gets angry with me. She rolls her eyes just like my sister and things usually go downhill after that,because I can’t stop  laughing seeing how much she looks like my sister.

My oldest sister can’t cook. Now, I don’t believe that one can’t cook. I think it is more won’t than can’t. But the truth of the matter is, my sister will choose to  starve and die than to cook if it ever came to that. I have never eaten anything cooked by my sister. She eats out all the time and I worry about her when she is old and not able to go out for meal everyday.

As I mentioned before, Yaya looks exactly like my oldest sister and refused to cook when she was young. I remember once I had severe migraine and couldn’t cook and asked Yaya if she would make herself some noodles and she asked me to help her boil the water for her. The process involved filling the kettle and switching it on. She didn’t want to do that and it was the first time Yaya went to bed hungry.

When I became a mother, I had hoped to have a house like “little women” Where everyone was nice to each other, everyone helped each other and the house was filled with laughter and happiness. It took me a long time to accept the fact that a house like that can only happen in novels and in my house, for sure there was laughter and happiness, so were tears and angry outbursts and no one helped me with the chores. I did everything and it was a tiring job.

Every Saturday, my children have basket ball matches, one match in the morning and one at noon. Yaya works on Saturday from 9 till 12.30 and few weeks ago, I asked her if she would cook lunch. I have to be honest that I didn’t expect her to say “yes”. All I was doing was to badger her, hoping that one day she will get that cooking is not a major event, it is just a part of your life. I was surprised when I received a txt from her asking me ” What would you like me to make?” I thought of things she could cook quickly without having to use knives etc and being a natural born klutz, I was really scared that she will harm herself in the process of cutting an onion. But then I thought, she should learn to figure out what to cook looking at the ingredients we have and so I told her “make whatever you want”.

I imagined all sorts of events that could happen if Yaya entered my kitchen and decided to cook and I  planned all the things I must do if anything went wrong. I knew my elderly neighbour is home recuperating from the hip surgery, so I could call her in case of emergency. Cuts with knives, tell Yaya to use compress or raise the injured hand/fingers above the heart level..for burns I must ask Yaya to wash under running water  and for fire I hoped she will remember to drop and roll..etc etc.

Last Saturday, I came home to find lunch ready at the table. She made Szechuan Tofu, sugar snap peas in oyster sauce and Taiwanese pork mince with fried shallots.

“Where did you get the recipe?” I asked her.

“I went to the library after work and borrowed some recipe books” She said.

As I wrote before, apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree..for you see, I still borrow recipe books from the library..


Marauding henchmen

Yaya had an assignment to write about slavery and she used the description Marauding henchmen for slave traders. Her teacher was very puzzled as to how she knew such a description and she explained, “my mom is a  member of the Genghis Khan’s marauding henchmen”

It all started when the kids were little. We used to make a tent by placing the duvet, bed sheets etc over the dining table and hide inside our secret cave. We used to explore various cities, read using torch light etc.

As all mother’s know, it is very difficult to get kids to eat when they are small, so I invented Marauding henchmen. ( my kids loved big words). The idea was that, I was a raider from Genghis Khan’s army and I have been fighting the wars for a long time. We ran out of food and I was hungry and looking for food. I served snacks/lunch/homemade yougure with fruits etc for my children and they hid inside the tent, quickly trying to eat their food before I could get to them. I used to cover my face and with a duppatta, change my voice to a really gruff one and march around the tent screaming, “I can smell food, I can hear my tummy rumbling, the food, the food, I need the food”

I could hear Yaya pleading with her siblings to eat quick before the henchman gets their food. And often I would keep my fingers and toes crossed that they would finish all the meat, because this particular henchman is a vegetarian :). The duvet was full of sauces and crumbs, but their tummy was full and we used to have so much fun.

Choosing to stay home to raise my babies wasn’t a smart thing to do when it came to my career. But there is nothing in this world that could come anywhere close to the joys I have had raising my children. I will never get those times again..and I don’t regret a bit that I am not treating a patient right now.

Oh, one more thing, yesterday when I try to log in to my domain ( through wordpress) like usual, I couldn’t log in, there were random ads and a note saying this domain expired in July and link to follow to renew the domain. The site address instead of showing was showing as ww2, some randomwords, followed by folio.

I knew the domain was renewed in Feb, so there was no way it expired. So I assume that somehow a hacker has got access to my site. Does anyone know what is going on? and What I should do? Would you please leave a comment if you are having issues accessing my blog.

I will be away the until next Monday. Wishing you all a great weekend and life filled with tons of happiness.

My son and I

One thing my children absolutely hate is being compared to each other or with their mates. And I try not to. But sometimes you wonder how children born of the same parents, raised following the same rules can be this different.

When Yaya wants to go for a movie, the preparation starts a week in advance. First, her friends will vote which movie they want to watch, followed by whose house they will be going to before and after the movie, followed by getting my permission and if the movie ends after 5.30 pm, ensuring that I will be able to pick her up from the theatre.

So when she tells me on Monday ” Mom, Can I please go for a movie with my friends on Friday?” Without much further thought, I will say “Yes” because I know she plans everything well.

Last Sunday, the house phone rang at 12.30 pm and I knew it will be one of my son’s friends. Mine was still in bed and when I gave him the phone, I heard him speaking very drowsily on the phone “sup dude?” Few seconds of mumbling later, he jumps out of the bed, grab his clothes from the cupboard and while hunting for his wallet asks/tells

“Mom, T just called, apparently his parents can give us a lift to the theatre and may I please go?”

“What time are they going?” I asked

“They are on their way to our house”

“But you haven’t” I was going to say you haven’t brushed your teeth, had breakfast/lunch. haven’t done your homework etc etc and that I hate last minute planning..but I realized the person I was talking to is already in the washroom, frantically brushing his teeth, while hollering ” mom, could you please fill my water bottle, pack a packet of  microwave popcorn and make me a cheese sandwich?” ( My children take their own microwave popcorn and use the microwave at seven eleven  to save money)

By the time I cut the crust of the bread, his friend had already arrived.

Up on seeing that the sandwich isn’t ready, my son said ” I will eat it when I come back”

“No, you will wait a minute for me to make your sandwich and then you go” I replied.

Grudgingly he waited, holding the grill door wide open, letting in all the mosquitos, spiders, flies etc and every few nano seconds asking “is it ready?”

“What time will you get back home?” I asked as I gave him the sandwich.

“I will txt you, bye mom, thanks for the sandwich” all in one sentence and he left.

From the time the phone rang to the time he left, it took less than 7 minutes. This is the same child, I have to threaten with dire consequences to get ready on time  when we have to go somewhere.

Sunday being my day off, I spend the rest of the day reading the latest Jeffrey Archer’s latest book, Best Kept Secret.  I expected him to be back home before 5, like Yaya does or if he was going to be late, make arrangements to be picked up. Come 5 o’clock, no sign of my son. No text either. I turned off the phone and turned it back on, just in case there was some network error that prevented me from getting his text. I waited until 6, still no news from him. I tried calling his hand phone, it was switched off. I looked outside, it was already pitch black and raining heavy. Panic began to rise slowly from my belly. Sure, I knew he is with his friend, but I am his mother and getting worked up on his behalf is my “right” ( for want of better terms).

6.40, I called his friend’s father and he laughed and told me ” welcome to raising boys, they can’t multi task, Neither your son, nor my son knows to think that if you go for a movie, you need to watch the one that ends at 5 pm, so you could get back home before sun down. Don’t worry, we will get a call soon”

True enough, 6.45, my son calls me to let me know that he had switched off the phone before entering the theatre, and now that the movie is over, he was wondering if I could come and fetch them. The mall close at 6 pm, I live 20 minutes drive away from the theatre and I was mad as hell for the way he does things. I thought, he and his friend would be safe taking the bus back home instead of waiting for me to come and pick them up. I didn’t want him to walk alone through the park near home at night, so I asked him to call me as soon as he gets off the bus, so I could pick him up. “Make sure, you stand under the light” I said .” yeah, I know, I am not a baby anymore” he replied. I so very much wanted to tell him, if you think you are not a baby anymore, then you should act your age. But I didn’t, because there is no point in trying to get him to understand that, I am a single mother, I don’t have any family I can lean on and I can’t just drop everything without any notice and  drive and pick him up. It isn’t easy running a household on my own with no help from anyone else.

I was so mad at him. As I took a U turn near the bus stop, there he was standing with a huge smile on his face and he hops in to the car and tells me  “Mom, you must watch Lone ranger, the movie was awesome, I am so hungry, what is for dinner?”

He didn’t get the stress I went through the past 2 hours and I realized the next time he wants to go for a movie, he and I are going to sort a few things before he leaves home. I will have to get him to understand that he needs to get back home before sun down.

You can’t make me.

Daughter of a very dear friend is going through awful teenage rebellion. I have known the child since she was 3. Both her parents are Ivy League graduates, intelligent,well read, financially well to do and have a very supportive family network. For her Bat Mitzvah, her entire family ( grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins) came from around the world to celebrate. She has been a well behaved child until recently and without any reason, she decided one fine morning that she will not listen to her mother and that her mother has no rights to tell her to do anything. It is a matter of principle, she says.

She decided that she will go to bed when she wants to, not when her mother wants to. The past few months she went to bed at 3 AM, woke up at 8.30 AM and made it to school with a second to spare, without brushing her teeth, taking a shower etc.

She decided that she will watch any movies she wants to and watch them until 3 AM..

She decided that she likes to wear sweat pants and have been wearing the same  t shirt for weeks.

She decided not to join family for meals and don’t talk to any family members.

So far her mother has tried to be nice and explain to her why she needs to go to bed on time etc, when that didn’t work, punished her by not letting her visit friends or have friends over, took her phone away, facebook away etc..and each punishment was met with the same war cry, “do your worst, but you can’t make me listen to you, I will do what I want”

My youngest has been going through her rebellious state the past few months and have started to call her siblings names. I hate children calling each other names and I have warned her clearly that she will end up sitting in the corner for a whole one hour if she called her siblings names. Which she did on Saturday and I told her to sit in the corner.

She looked at me very angrily and told me ” you can’t make me” and proceeded to walk to her room and then slammed the door.

I have never faced this until now, I am so used to Yaya and Toothless listening to me. They will both accept punishments though grudgingly, not that I have punished either of them for a very long time.

It was really shocking to see my baby behaving like this. Clearly she was wrong and she knew she was wrong, but she chose to give me an attitude. After hearing my friend’s woes, I realized that taking away her privileges is only going to make things worst. I will not hit my children or hurt them physically

So I went to her room and when I opened the door she yelled ” What do you want”

I wanted to tell her, this is my house and she better understand that and treat me well. But I controlled my temper.

I told her ” your body right now is a hormone war zone. However that doesn’t excuse your behaviour. I had warned you in advance not to call your siblings names and you disobeyed me and when I told you sit in the corner, you chose to ignore me and tell me I can’t make you. You are right that I will not physically hurt you and make you sit in the corner. But, you need to remember that, in this whole world, I am the only person who loves you unconditionally, I am the one who will always be there for you, and when you behave like this, all you are achieving Is making an enemy out of the one person who loves you and stands by you. If you think that is worth it, by all means ignore my punishment, otherwise, you must come outside and sit in the corner within the next one minute.”

She did sit in the corner with tears streaming down her cheeks. Although I did say, she has to sit for an hour, I let her go after 10 minutes.

Yesterday during dinner, we were talking about unusual names for children and Yaya showed us the youtube video of the British woman who chooses her children’s friends according to their name ( I said, she is an idiot.  My son heard me and said “mom, all for one, one for all” ie  the rules should be the same across the board. If I tell my children they can’t call anyone names, then I can’t either.  “you have to sit in the corner” they said unanimously. My youngest was the happiest to see her mom sit in the corner and I wanted to show her that, it is much easier for everyone to follow the rules.

I did and like them every second I asked ” can I get up now?”

“My god, she is such a pest” said my son and found himself sitting next to me.

After 5 minutes Yaya felt sorry and freed us from our punishment.

Before my youngest went to bed, she came to me and apologized for the way she behaved and told me ” you are the best mom in the whole wide world”

I know, I won this round, but after seeing what my friend is going through with her daughter, I am not sure what the future has in store for me.

Circle of life..

Yesterday, Yaya and I attended her grade 11 orientation day where she has to pick the subjects she is going to study the next 2 years, the subjects that will be the foundation for her future. Until now, her life was dictated by the dept of education when it came to the subjects she had to study and now she has to make the decision.

When she came back home after school, she looked visibly upset and went to her room right away. Normally, she would take her lunch bag out of her bag and put the containers for washing and make herself a sandwich, often steal my tea while eating her sandwich, then she talks to her siblings about her day and they all chat about anything and everything under the sun.

A part of me wanted to go to her and give her a hug and tell her that  choosing the subjects isn’t the end of the world and that I am there with her always, but I knew my head would be chewed off. So I let it go.

The meeting was at 7 and before we left I cooked Bhattura and chickpeas curry. When Yaya was little, she could never say chickpeas and always said pick cheese and it is still one of her favourite meal. She didn’t want to eat. I really wanted to give her bop on her head because by the time we get back home, it will be pretty late and she would be famished and that will make her even more crabby. But being the nice mom that I am, I let her starve if that was her choice and packed crackers and cheese to take with me.

As soon as I parked my car, she got off and was met with a bunch of her classmates and I was left standing there alone. I didn’t even know where the meeting was. But fortunately there were other parents there as well and I followed them.

I have an attention span of 15 minutes, after that my mind will wander. This is what I learned in the first 15 minutes. Her principal spoke about “letting your children choose the subjects  they love” Because it isn’t the grade that matters in the long run, but the love they have for the subject that will lead them to a career they would love and will help them to live a fruitful life.

I love science. I still study science and read all the latest scientific papers and journals. I am also exceptionally good in maths especially when it comes to questions in Maths challenge competitions,  but I hate maths. Solving a rather difficult maths question gives me absolutely no satisfaction, but learning about Dr. Lakshmi Devi’s discovery of CYM51010 an alternative opioid pain reliever without the usual risk of dependence  makes me really happy. When I was 15, I knew that I will never study maths and even though my mother registered me to do maths as an extra subject for pre degree, I cancelled it without her knowledge and spend the 90RS fees that was returned to me for buying masala dosa in the canteen for few months 🙂  I was not worried about my future. I took the decision not to do maths, even though by doing so, I limited my future to only health sciences. I knew what I wanted and also knew that I am capable of reaching where I want to be.

Drive back home, while munching the crackers and cheese, Yaya asked

“Mom, how do I know what subject I should pick, I am so scared that if I pick  the wrong subject and my grades will suffer?”

I asked Yaya ” Do you know what is my favourite cartoon movie?”

“Lion King” She replied without any hesitation.

I started to sing my favourite song and initially Yaya said “Mom, you can’t sing to save your life” I ignored her and continued to sing and after few seconds she too joined.

After the song, I told Yaya, there is a place for you in this world and she will get there and I will always there for her and she should pick the subjects she love, not because it is a bludge subject, but because doing it makes her happy. This but a circle of life.


Rights and sucking up.

Sometime ago, Yaya was getting  in to trouble with her class teacher every day. Beginning of the  year, when she saw the teacher’s list and saw who was going to be her class teacher, she said “mom, I hate her”

“Hate is such a strong word” I replied. I have been on the receiving end of teacher’s wrath not because I wasn’t a good student, but because of my hatred for them or the way they teach. You learn from your experiences and I didn’t want Yaya to screw up her future. The next few years are really crucial for her and teachers play a huge role when it comes to her grade. When I was young, I thought it isn’t the marks that counted, but my knowledge. I was a fool. No one really cares about how much you know, unless you can validate your knowledge with a good grade/mark.

“But Mom, You are not getting my point. We talks about our rights to love, live a comfortable life, right to education, healthcare etc, but no one understands that just as we have a right to love, we do have a right to hate. I can hate her, it is my right. Just because she is my teacher doesn’t mean that I must like her, there is no such law”

Whenever I argued with my mother and I had valid points, my mother wouldn’t accept my point or refute them. Instead she used to shout and yell and blame my father. grandmother etc and the whole argument changes the dimension and I ended up feeling mad at my mother. I had promised myself then that I will always listen to valid arguments. I felt Yaya’s points had some merit.

I have never met Celine Dion. Her Titanic theme song, my heart will go on, came out in 1997. I was expecting Yaya then and I was under bed rest. Local radio station played the song over and over and I can’t explain how much I hated the song and the singer, which is very unusual because I love music. Many years later, there was a competition on the same local radio and Paula Malai Ali and her twin sister Jenny were participating and they both said, they hate Celine Dion too. I felt so good driving to work that day. Because I was not the only one who hated Celine Dion. But to this day, I don’t know why I hate Celine Dion.

Her teacher picked on every little thing Yaya did and most days she came home fuming. One incident was, Yaya didn’t have her lap top ready before the class started. The process involved opening the lap top screen and it takes less than 5 seconds. She then had to endure 10 minutes lecture about “importance of being prepared”.

I realized, I can’t make my child not hate her teacher, let alone suck up to the teacher. She still has another 6 more months to go through and I explained to Yaya that if she sits like a statue the entire class, looking intently at the teacher and not say a word to her friends, she will win this game and the teacher will eventually stop picking on her. I also told her that she can listen to the music by passing the headphone through the jacket sleeve and use her hand as a head support. ( It worked. Yaya doesn’t sit with her friends, her brother has uploaded some chat system on her lap top and her friends’ that allows them to chat with each other, bypassing the teacher’s computer/control. She also listens to the music.

But the teacher stopped  picking on her.

I do worry that she might get caught one of these days for listening to the music and all hell will break loose. I don’t have any ready excuse to get out of that mess, but for the time being, all is well.


I live in a predominantly South African neighbourhood. Most of them are really nice, except the one whose daughter and son were/are classmates of my children and lives closest to me. She works in the local supermarket and always gives me a dose of her horrible ‘nose up in the air’ attitude.  I have known her since I came to Australia and learned to ignore her arrogance and obvious hatred for the coloured! ( She will not even let her children play with mine.)

Few days ago, as I was driving out to the main road, I noticed that water was flowing from her storm drain on to the road. She must be cleaning her swimming pool, so I thought. I got back home pretty late in the evening that day and only remembered to check for mail in my letter box while cooking the dinner. My house is the last house in the street and while getting the letters from the mail box, I noticed that water is still flowing in to the storm drain outlet near the end of my property. It occurred to me that it doesn’t take all day to empty the pool and that there must be a massive water leak in ‘our’ friend’s house and she doesn’t know about it.

Water is extremely expensive here. The council in their quest to make quick bucks have decided to charge exorbitant amount of money for water and then claim that they are doing so, because of the constant drought and need to force the people to save water! I don’t waste a drop of water, yet I pay 300$/quarter.

I changed my clothes, walked the 1.5 km to her house and knocked at the door. She opened the door ( just the door, not the security grill), looked at me rudely and said


I told her ,” There is water flowing from your storm drain to the road, I think you have a burst pipe”. She said “ok” and closed the door on my face.

I was so angry with the way she treated me. I was doing her a favour. Saving her from paying a huge water bill. I was fuming the walk back home and I said aloud as I entered my house

“Jeez, she is so effing rude, I am never going to tell her if the water is leaking again”

My youngest was in the living room and replied

“mom, just because she is rude doesn’t mean you have to be rude as well”

The thing is, this was the lesson I taught my kids from the time when they were little.

“Just because, your sister/brother is mean, doesn’t mean that you have to be mean” or “just because they did ‘whatever’ doesn’t mean that you have to do the same”

Sometimes, I ought to remember to practice what I preach.



Getting there

When I was about 13 years old, my aunt had just finished her degree and came to stay with us doing the summer holidays,while her family was looking for a “suitable boy”.. Amma enrolled her in an Institute named Trupti. I don’t know if you can name Trupti as an institute. It was the Kottayam version of  a finishing school. It was located en route to the children’s library, past the Thirunakkara temple. Sometimes my aunt would take me with her because she didn’t want to walk alone and I waited for her at the library and on a good day, she might even buy me Lassi from the Milk shop next to the musical instruments shop. My aunt was very condescending and treated me as though I was without a brain. And being a teenager, that was the last thing I wanted. But the trip allowed me an escape from home, plus Lassi and library. I couldn’t resist!

Part of the lessons at the institute was cooking and one day, she was taught how to make Coconut Barfi. I remember how excited I was, when my aunt offered to make coconut barfi for all of us. It was a long process. First we had to scrape coconut very carefully, so no brown colour stuff got mixed in the coconut.

The goodness of the Barfi was directly proportional to how white it was ! Her Instructor was very particular about that.

Then we had to dry the coconut for a day in the hot sun. The next day, I had to grind sugar in to a fine powder. Amma had a Braun grinder and I measured one cup of sugar, as per the recipe and pressed the start button. What I didn’t know was that the volume of powdered sugar is much bigger than 1 cup of raw sugar. Almost quarter of the sugar fell down, when I opened the lid. More was lost when I (stupidly) took out the blade and then removed the grinder from the base. If my aunt was condescending before this drama, you could imagine the grief she gave me after! She and amma joined together and insulted me a lot.

I felt everyone makes mistakes in their life and I didn’t deliberately choose to waste the sugar. I didn’t eat the coconut barfi that day because I was so mad.

Last Saturday, I was at the basket ball game with my youngest and as usual was texting Yaya. I often tell her that she is the best daughter a mother could ever have, for which she will always reply, ” I know I am” and then we go back and forth about why Gasconade isn’t very good !  Then I asked her if she would cook lunch as by the time I got back home, I will only have about 20 minutes before taking my son for his Basketball game. She didn’t reply. Conveniently evaded the topic. So I thought. But then again, she was on her way home after work and I shouldn’t have asked her to cook.

I wasn’t expecting her to cook and was shocked to see her in the kitchen when I got back. This is how the kitchen looked.

My blender had tomato puree all over. ( This is the blender, that is 4 years old and still look brand new. part of my OCD is the obsession to keep my kitchen gadgets really clean!!) All three of my cutting boards were out, so were the knives, peeler and the can opener. My peeler is 20 years old. I always wash it right after using it, so it lasted this long. The sink was empty when I left in the morning and now had more bowls than what I would have, when I had 20 friends over for a meal.

“What are you cooking?” I asked her.

“Mexican rice” She told me.

“Smells really good” I told her.

“Mom,Sorry about the blender, it over flowed”  She said.

I helped her to clean the blender ( and the bowls, knives, peeler etc). My blender still has a reddish hue. but it is just a blender. In a few years, Yaya will leave home and each time I use my blender, I will remember her making Mexican rice. I also know that eventually Yaya will learn to use the blender correctly, like I did.

We had Mexican rice and spicy tomato and green chilli salsa for lunch. It was really good.