BIDWTF - Because I don't want to forget. I saw this on some blog/s - so the copyright isn't mine. I think it's a great concept - when there's something that your child does or says - not really matter for an entire blog, but you'll definitely forget it if you don't write it down somewhere!
So here are two stories BIDWTF.
Puttachi was having dinner, and I was telling her a story. She gets so engrossed in the story that she tends to overeat, so I remind her from time to time to "ask" her stomach whether it has had enough. She actually pauses, and "asks" it, and gives me the stomach's answer, which, so far, seems to be fairly accurate.
This time, the story must have been truly interesting, so Puttachi ended up overeating, and she couldn't get down from the chair and even stand.
Me: Puttachi, you really mustn't overeat - do pay attention to your stomach!
She: Amma, I just couldn't make out - I ate too much...
Me: I told you to ask your stomach....?
She: My stomach, poor thing, kept on telling me, "Puttachi, stop eating, stop eating," but you were speaking so loudly that I didn't hear what my stomach was telling me.
Does teenage come ten years earlier these days? The kid holds me at fault for everything these days :D
_______________
She was playing with a foldable hand-fan, and she spent hours with it. Inevitably, she personified it, and it became her friend.
All of a sudden, she came to me sobbing. This was real sorrow - deep from her heart - sobbing, weeping, nose red, tears flowing down her cheeks....
Me: (hugging her) What happened, sweetheart?
She: (can hardly speak, her voice is shaking) Amma, the fan told me that it would go away and never come back.
Me: Why?
She: I don't know why.
Me: Did you ask it to stay?
She: Yes, but it is not staying.
(continues weeping into my shoulder.)
I pause, because truth be told, I wanted to burst into laughter. Anyway, stupidly, I tried to reason it out with her.
Me: Puttachi, it makes sense if you feel like crying at a story that is not yours. Here, you are making up this story, aren't you? you can change it to make the fan come back and stay with you forever.
Puttachi: But you don't understand, Amma. The fan told me, it told me that it's never coming back.
Me: (cursing my foolishness) Ok, come on, let's go to the fan.
We hug the fan, kiss it, and "show" the fan how sad Puttachi is because of what it said to her, and thankfully, the fan relents, and decides to stay with Puttachi.
The clouds part, and sunshine fills the room. Puttachi smiles, and I heave a sigh of relief.
So here are two stories BIDWTF.
Puttachi was having dinner, and I was telling her a story. She gets so engrossed in the story that she tends to overeat, so I remind her from time to time to "ask" her stomach whether it has had enough. She actually pauses, and "asks" it, and gives me the stomach's answer, which, so far, seems to be fairly accurate.
This time, the story must have been truly interesting, so Puttachi ended up overeating, and she couldn't get down from the chair and even stand.
Me: Puttachi, you really mustn't overeat - do pay attention to your stomach!
She: Amma, I just couldn't make out - I ate too much...
Me: I told you to ask your stomach....?
She: My stomach, poor thing, kept on telling me, "Puttachi, stop eating, stop eating," but you were speaking so loudly that I didn't hear what my stomach was telling me.
Does teenage come ten years earlier these days? The kid holds me at fault for everything these days :D
_______________
She was playing with a foldable hand-fan, and she spent hours with it. Inevitably, she personified it, and it became her friend.
All of a sudden, she came to me sobbing. This was real sorrow - deep from her heart - sobbing, weeping, nose red, tears flowing down her cheeks....
Me: (hugging her) What happened, sweetheart?
She: (can hardly speak, her voice is shaking) Amma, the fan told me that it would go away and never come back.
Me: Why?
She: I don't know why.
Me: Did you ask it to stay?
She: Yes, but it is not staying.
(continues weeping into my shoulder.)
I pause, because truth be told, I wanted to burst into laughter. Anyway, stupidly, I tried to reason it out with her.
Me: Puttachi, it makes sense if you feel like crying at a story that is not yours. Here, you are making up this story, aren't you? you can change it to make the fan come back and stay with you forever.
Puttachi: But you don't understand, Amma. The fan told me, it told me that it's never coming back.
Me: (cursing my foolishness) Ok, come on, let's go to the fan.
We hug the fan, kiss it, and "show" the fan how sad Puttachi is because of what it said to her, and thankfully, the fan relents, and decides to stay with Puttachi.
The clouds part, and sunshine fills the room. Puttachi smiles, and I heave a sigh of relief.
12 comments:
Adorable... :D
haha.. I see this a lot with Lil P also.. how adorable!
Oh gosh, that was hilarious. How could you speak so loudly...you are being very impolite to her stomach's voice! :P
hahahahaha :D i looooooove these stories! :)
you know you should publish a book of short stories about puttachi. kind of like your own little malgudi days, except it would be puttachi days :)
Haha... I remember Calvin and Hobbes! :D
LOL! Am loving these stories :-)
lovely blogs. How do you make your oatmeal breakfast? What oatmeal brand do you use?
:))
yes, "Puttachi days" please
Hahahaha..she is so cute !
fantastic mam. I love this story , its really a nice one .
Rahul
Apartment / Flat in Gurgaon
HEy, thank you all, for your comments :)
Starry-eyed, LOL!!
Adu, austere - sure I will write such a book, now that I know there are at least two people who will read it :D
Anon, you are free to mail me at the address on my blog, and I'll give you detailed instructions on how to cook oatmeal :D
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