Sunday, March 22, 2009

Conversations with my son

My wife wants to give up our son for adoption. 
In the last 48 hours, he has beaten up Chitrangada Singh's son, poured water on his sleeping mother and called himself a Hegoram. Okay, Bongs - stop laughing at the last bit! 

Weekends are really stressful times. Some snatches of conversation... 

Bathtime
Me trying to brush his teeth, while he is trying wriggle out and climb the walls, using the bath toys as traction. Suddenly...
Him (handing me a bath toy): Fock! 
Me, frozen speechless.
Him (again, with more passion): Fock!
Me, desperately wondering where he learnt it from. We hardly use the F word. 
Him (impatiently): Fock! Fock!! 
Me (weakly): Ki?? 
He throws the toy and hands me another. 
Him (exasperated): Duck!
Me: Huh? 
He has thrown away his green frog toy and is now giving me a yellow duck. 

TV Time
Me on the laptop, digging out obscure songs from my playlists. Him, absorbed in Disney Playhouse. 
Him: Eta Mickey. Eta Mimi. Eta Donnel. Eta Didi. Eta Joopi (Goofy).
Me: Aar eita Pluto. 
Him (gives me a condescending look): Na. Ota doggie. (Explains for my benefit) Bhou bhou. 

One hour later, we are now on Cartoon Network. Favourite show starts. 
Him (explaining to dull Dad): Eta Tomjeri. 
Me: Okay. 
Show in full blast. Cat's tail gets caught in toaster, as son laughs uproariously. 
Him (excitedly): Jerry tuck (Jerry stuck). 
Me: Huh? 
Now, mouse puts cat's tail in waffle machine. 
Me: Aar eta ke? 
Him (again exasperated): Tom. (Subtitle: What kind of duffer are you?)
Several questions on names of cat and mouse establish that my son thinks the cat is Jerry and the mouse is Tom. 
I don't try to correct. The connection of the names to the stories is not too strong anyway! 

Magazine Time
Me flipping through Filmfare, as son sits on shoulder, hangs from head and peeps from under my arm. Warning: Don't try this at home. Even as he climbs on to these precarious positions (as well as on dining tables, he is always repeating "Joy, be carefoo, be carefoo..."). 
I try to make this an educational experience. Point out familar pictures and get him to identify in a rapid fire round of Eta Ki? (What's this?) and he responds admirably. 
Teddy bear. Butterfwy (he says 'w' instead of 'l'). Caar. Nanu. (means Bath = Wet heroine). 
Me (pointing to Bipasha Basu): Eta key? 
Him: Mamma. 
I am a little jealous at this blatant display of devotion. 
Me (hopefully pointing to John Abraham): Eta key? 
Him (after close scrutiny): Kaku. (referring to my cousin, who is into regular gymming).  

Sigh! 
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