If you ask me, mom’s been doing really well the last 26 days and 25 nights without dad.
In all the years they’ve been together, nitpicking on various issues, such as the nutritive value of brown bread over white bread and the look of eggshell over semi-gloss house paint, this is the first time the humans have been apart this long.
Dad’s away in the motherland, working. Or, as mom puts it, “I'm here all alone with the kids, while he's enjoying himself over there.”
Despite dad’s assertions that he misses the family and cannot wait to get back, mom imagines him tucking into choice Indian food every day while she makes Subway runs with hungry kids in the car. She’s also concerned that he might be surrounded by nubile, doe-eyed southern Indian women at work, the kind who can talk intelligibly about coding, interfaces and applications and make killer filter coffee.
“My friend mentioned that the women on the second floor are really pretty,” she e-mailed dad, as soon as he landed. “Is that where your cubicle is? And I’ve heard all the Mangalorean girls there look like Aishwarya Rai. Is that true?”
“No,” responded dad quickly, with the perspicacity of a husband who has reaped the disastrous consequences of failing one too many trick questions in the past.
Despite mom’s vain attempts to don the “fun” parent’s hat while dad’s away, the children see right through her façade.
“I want my Appa,” pouts Kuki, when mom refuses to cave in to demands of Popsicle for breakfast.
“Appa would know how to fix it,” observes Anu, as he stands aside and watches mom struggle, with a clothespin on her nose, to fix the toilet handle that he managed to pull out just after he egested undigested matter. “Appa can also help me with my math homework.”
Late last night, when the kids were finally in bed, and mom had finished reading the day’s newspaper, she found dad online for a rare moment.
She instantly messaged him.
“How are you doing?” she typed. “Is your project wrapping up? You must be so exhausted. You’ve been away too long.”
As dad basked in the warm glow of spousal love and concern, mom continued, “Can you come home early? I’m not sure I can manage for much longer without you. I’ve been thinking about you all day."
“Really?” asked dad, still basking.
“Yes,” continued mom. “Hurry back! I really need you ... the toilet’s broken!”
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Pining for the Pater
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15 comments:
Its fun to read your Blogs. Hope the toilet gets fixed soon!!!
:)
G
@Dad - enjoy yourself. And you know that all this sudden feeling for you is temporary. All they need is a handyman at home. Goa is quite close to Mangalore- you could hop over there for a tizzy weekend. ;). I'm sure that with Terri (the man of the house now) there, things ought to be fine. When you go back don't forget to buy something for him. :)
hehehe.. after so many years of marital bliss, the conflict of missing the spouse or not is quite stressful :)
LOL - Terri, your Mom's a woman after my own heart!
I hear you Mom!
and it doesn't help when Dad goes "you know, you should take a trip like this sometime. 3 weeks in warm sunshine without the kids is something you should really try..." Hard not to slam the phone down and throw a tizzy fit!!
oops, sorry, we were talking about your human weren't we?
G, gee, thanks!
Precious Princess Puvi, whose side are you on? I thought you’d support the underdog.
Thanks for making me man of the house, but there are certain plumbing issues that only dad can fix, if you get my drift. Thanks for the plug on your blog!
rads, spouses should be around when you need them. At other times, they can go upstairs or down to the basement.
Nee, at least you understand her, because dad sure doesn’t.
Saffron, when mom travels alone, she ends up missing her kids and wishing they were there. And when she is with the kids, at times she wishes she were on a tropical island, alone, somewhere far away. Some people, I tell you …
Is only the toilet that's broken?
:-)
jingu, since you asked, the freezer's also leaking. Again, issues are plumbing related :)
I sympathise with your mom completely Terri. I'm the same. Btw, please tell her I've tagged her.
this was fun and oh so familiar. I will be in similar situation soon and am dreading it :)
Very nice -- sounds very familiar indeed -- damned if they are around and damned if they are not !!!
PS - mom need not worry about the girls in the second floor, take it from me, there is no one worth giving a second glance - rest assured, am sure dad is wondering where did all the good looking gals wander off to :)))
BTW, i am in town for a few days, went driving around in the old neighbourhood, things sure havent changed much :)
--Vaishnavi
Thanks, MG and m. It's heartening to know there are other insecure people out there.
V, you're in town! Please stop by this weekend if you can(tsampat@hotmail.com).
Hee hee. I act real cool on the phone when I talk to him. You know, trying not to let the desperation seap through. I wonder if he believes that it's no big deal when the Boy woke me up at 5am and the dog wouldn't let sleep at 10pm.
I don't know if its you thats funny or if its you mum! But overall you seem like a family righout outta one of funny american sitcoms!
Loved the read! That last line was jusssst right! I'm sure your dad laffed at that comment too.
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