Mom proposes, dad defers

The humans went out to lunch. Together. With no children to interrupt their attention every 3.5 seconds.

Now such an event may seem ordinary to you if you’re blessed with a spouse who enjoys spending time with you, but for mom, a couple outing is the equivalent of a hormonal teenager spending time with an adult magazine behind closed doors.

In fact, she is still pinching herself at her good fortune, because the last time mom was alone with dad - outside their bedroom, that is - they went for a movie after much arm-twisting on her part.

As with most good things in life, this "date" was completely unplanned. It started with mom getting heartburn in the morning after regurgitating the previous night’s dinner of spicy chickpeas.

Craving non-Indian food for lunch, she crossed her fingers and asked dad, as casually as if she were commenting on the weather, if he wanted to go out that morning. “You know … go for a drive … maybe grab some lunch on the way?”

With heart hammering, she waited for him to veto the idea. Instead, he surprised her with an “OK, where do you want to go?”

Perhaps dad’s ready acceptance was the result of a recent spat between the humans over … um … er … what the hell was it about anyway? … that resulted in both parties avoiding each other for a few days.

Maybe the cold shoulder and the dry spell got to him, or maybe the spicy chickpeas were irritating his stomach lining as well. Whatever the reason, dad not only took his wife out, he also made conversation that extended beyond his habitual, “Hmmm.”

The humans headed to a restaurant that came with high recommendations. “You simply must go there,” gushed a friend, setting up lofty expectations of lip-smacking Continental food.

The place was filled with expats and the menu looked promising, but after a bite of her aubergine dish, mom wondered if the nondescript dosai place they had passed on the way might have been a better option.

It probably would’ve been a lot cheaper too, for when they were presented with the bill, the restaurant had inflated mom’s Rs. 70 dish to a whopping Rs. 250.

“They probably just made a mistake,” said dad. Mom had her own theories, but for the sake of marital accord, she decided not to voice them.

After lunch, trying to push her luck and prolong the “date,” mom suggested they drive out of the way to a grocery store called Spar. “They have a big liquor section,” she added quickly, before the frown lines formed on dad’s forehead.

Built with NRIs in mind, Spar is everything a Nilgiri’s or a Reliance Fresh is not. The first time she went there, mom had to keep reminding herself that she was still in India. Smiling expats wheeled their carts around saying, “Excuse me,” when they had to pass; the aisles were wide enough to accommodate might-is-right NRIs who leave their manners behind at the Frankfurt airport; and the staff made an attempt to guide shoppers instead of delivering the standard “Gothilla,” when asked for help.

As usual, mom came home loaded with stuff she didn’t really need. More importantly, she came home smiling. No, dad didn’t buy her roses as she secretly wished, but he did reach for her hand instinctively as they crossed a busy intersection, and didn’t object when she fiddled with the radio channels in the car.

What’s that?

Why, yes, it did rain that day.

Why do you ask?