If people from Poland are Poles, why aren’t people from Holland called Holes?

The first time it happened, it took her completely by surprise.

“Amma, what’s this?” asked Anu one evening, as they were stuck in a mile-long traffic jam.

“Hmm?” murmured mom, absently, wondering if there was yoghurt in the refrigerator and praying there were enough leftovers from two nights ago so she didn’t have to cook as soon as they got home, but could, instead, concentrate on important tasks, such as checking email while Kuki was perched on the potty.

“What is this?” repeated Anu, from the back.

“What?” asked mom, glancing at the rearview mirror, thinking Anu was pointing at a billboard or a new construction.

“This,” said Anu, raising an upturned middle finger at eye-level.

Mom went into shock. She slammed the brakes hard, just in time to avoid hitting the red pickup truck in front of her. “Shit!” she blurted out. Then, “Shoot, don’t say that. It’s not polite.”

“Amma, you crash?” trilled Kuki, as she tried to hold her finger up like her brother.

“No, like this, Kuki. See?” offered Anu, helpfully folding back his sister’s fingers.

As bells tolled, waves crashed, thunder clapped and images of Lord Shiva dancing the Tandava flashed in mom’s head, she wondered how to broach the somewhat delicate topic of the birds and bees with an almost eight-year-old.

Mom considered her options:

1. Bio 101: “The sperm fuses with the ovum, leading to the formation of a zygote.”
2. Desi response: “Chee chee, shame shame, puppy shame!”
3. Dr. Spock’s method: “When daddy and mommy love each other very much, he inserts his penis into her vagina. Together, they make a baby.”
4. Easy way out: “Go ask Appa.”

After quickly vetoing no. 1 (too boring, also not sure what the entire process is), no. 2 (get with the times, people), no. 4 (Appa will probably redirect non-mathematical questions to Amma), mom settled on a watered-down version of Dr. Spock, and managed to deliver the fundamentals with minimal stammering and a straight face. (Keeping her eyes on the road the entire time helped.)

With the floodgates of communication officially opened, mom now finds herself doubling as a dictionary cum encyclopedia for choice reference material, usually at the most inopportune of moments.

Anu (while mom’s on the phone): “What does ‘shit’ mean?”
Anu (while mom’s trying to strap a screaming Kuki to the car seat): “What does ‘gay’ mean?”
Anu (in the produce aisle): “Do bugs fart?”
Anu (as mom rolls out rotis): “Why is ‘f___ ‘a bad word?”
Anu (as mom exits the shower): “Why do you shave your armpits?”

Teaching opportunities aside, there are times when mom feels her life would’ve been easier had she followed her ancestors' footsteps and chosen option number 2. But then she thinks back to her school years and the humiliation that followed the day she realized that the Nirodh advertisements on television were not promoting razor blades, as her mother had informed her, but something quite different, and of all people, the boy she had a secret crush on, stood up in the middle of biology class and told her about it.

So, like a fairy dropping glitter in her wake, mom imparts life lessons, whenever, wherever and as best as she can - be it fielding questions that publicly mortify her, such as "Hey, how come you have a moustache?" or make her want to cross her legs, such as “Why do adults have hair down there?”

Anybody care to answer that?