Last night, as we sat lazing around trying to figure out where to go for dinner, my mother said, "Oh by the way, I read your blog yesterday." My mind reeled backwards as I tried to remember if I had written anything about Momania recently.No OCD issues of late.(Momania was a bit offended when I announced on my blog that she had an Obsessive Cleaning Disorder.Its hereditary and all mothers have them.We inherit the trait as soon as our children are born.)
But there was this one night...the night my sister arrived.She woke me up at two in the morning to tell me we were leaving in forty five minutes to pick up my sister.She asked me to go back to sleep saying she would wake me up at two thirty.I didn't understand why it was necessary to wake me up to tell me that and ask me to go back to sleep.Too groggy to contemplate, I closed my eyes.Only to be blinded in my sleep by all the lights in the room.Shielding my eyes with the back of my hand, I watched as she flippantly started arranging some books on my desk, a vacant look in her eyes.But she's been doing much better now.No more 'incidents'.
"You told me you had only THREE glasses of wine." she said loudly interrupting my thoughts.
My Christmas Spirit blog!Drat! (A more acceptable four letter word.)
"Amma,especially since her opening line was 'There is wine instead of blood in my body.' "my elder sister enthusiastically quoted. When's the next flight to New York?
"Uh ba da ba umm" I said intelligently.
"But everyone knew I had sev..uh six glasses of wine fenf nfeaunf n uyrapf fne da ba dumm hmm " I added.This intelligent talk is a real strain to the brain.
"Anyway, I read the last line about the Christmas stocking.I've decided to fill it up for Pongal!" my mother said.
Ah..A Hindu touch to a Christian festival.As long as she doesn't Ziplock some Chakare Pongal or sundal and put it in...Yay!

I've bunked college and am sitting at home.Its eight in the morning and my mother is sitting outside with my father telling him the children require them only for moolah.I threaten to defame her with my blog and she politely tells me that if I have something to say, I say it on her face.Not through my blog.She probably wishes I slept like her oldest daughter who puts Kumbhakarna to shame.Alas!
On college days, the five minutes of extra sleep I give myself at five fifty five are the best.And when I decide to bunk,I'm up and at 'em by six thirty rolling on the floor with Ozzy.Life isn't fair especially with that tinge of irony.

Sigh..