Posted in Nature

Oh, Dear!

“Surely, you don’t expect me to jump from here!”

“Of course, I do! Didn’t you make a wish to go flying?”

“That was one month ago! I was young then! I was allowed to made silly wishes. And I meant flying with a glider!”

“You never mentioned a glider! Besides you don’t need one.”

“You know, I can sue you for child abuse!”

“Yeah! But for that, you need to fly down the tree first.”

“Oh, dear!”


Author’s note: To my parents who forced me to fly

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Posted in Life and After, Love

The Last Straw

Author’s note: This is my first attempt at first line stories. The first line of the story was suggested by Fraggle. Thank you, FR. I hope it loves up to your expectations.

The death of the goldfish is the last straw.

My tail is twitching with agitation. I want to kill Gilly. I’ve been telling her since day one not to overfeed Goldy but she’s been constantly offering him treats for tricks when she thought I wasn’t looking. And now as I return from work, Goldy floating sideways in water, eyes closed, close to the cove roof while Gilly is looking at me sheepishly from the far corner, waiting for the sharp rebuke that is sure to come. The weight of the life lost is coming down on my shoulders making it difficult to stand.

I can’t always keep an eye on her. I’m a single mother with a job to keep. Apart from my regular job at the Shell and Pearls art shop, I work three nights a week at the Oceans One Disco to pay for Gilly’s tution. So, she’s alone after study hours. I adopted Goldy, hoping he’d give her the much needed company. I hadn’t considered if, without adult supervision, my young daughter would be able to keep him alive…

I sit down heavily on the ancient coral reef seat that once belonged to my great-grandmother. How did my mother manage to raise me and her mother before her, since none of our fathersโ€”the stranded sailorsโ€”stayed long enough for us to grow up. They’d rather catch the first ship back home. But in those times, mermaids raised their children together in large schools so there was always someone elderly to take care of the young ones while mothers foraged for food and wannabe mothers foraged for sailors. I remember clearly the hours I had spent hanging around in open ocean with friends and elderly mermaids, learning how to sing, dance and read. I had a happy childhood.

But now, as the city of Atlantis grows to the outskirts and unfamiliar faces become a common sight, it isn’t safe to leave behind our children out in the open. So, schools are limited to a few hours a day with classes held in closed rooms, and children are sent back to empty homes to fend for themselves. Gilly has to spend uncountable hours alone and I had believed a pet would make her happy. He did too as her constant companion and friend. But now, he’s gone, and I’m not sure I’ll risk another life again.

A deep sadness settles in the pit of my stomach. Goldy wasn’t just a fish; he was family. He was my responsibility tooโ€”another one I failed at. Should I rebuke Gilly for being a careless owner? But she must also be grieving…

I look at her and am greeted with expectant eyes. I open my arms to Gilly and beckon her to me. She shouts with glee, “Didn’t I tell you, Goldy, she loves me too,” as she swims in my lap, and Goldy rushes forward to join her, leaving the play-dead act behind.

I roll my eyes to show I amn’t affected by their little drama, but my heart throbs happily, beating a steady rhythm against my chest, trying to drive away the memories of ancient pain.

Posted in Random Thoughts

Meet Rapunzel

Most of you might already know how my daughter is crazy about animals and birds. She has been asking me to get her a pigeon for ages. To know more about our first conversation, visit my post: Negotiating with Intelligent Beings. She has been at it ever since. Every couple of days, she reminds my husband and I how much happier she would be if she could get a pigeon.

We have been fighting the never ending waves of emotional torture using various means.

At times, we try to make her see how our house is like a bird sanctuary where so many birds visit us every day–pigeons, doves, crows, babblers, parrots, hornbills, owls, eagles, hawks, and so on. When she said she wanted birds that would meet her every day, my husband bought a couple of clay parrots in a cage.

She played with it for a couple of days and the cage broke. She was afterme to build a nest for them and get eggs but that plan never came through for the lack of grass needed to create the nest.

And then, I got her a set of unbreakable plastic birds. She played with them for a week and now they sit in a box awaiting their owner’s return.

Lately, she started her barrage of requests for a pigeon again. We had to decline point blank, reminding her that the bird would probably hate her for caging her and die an early death too. That was when she relented and, with a sadness of Romeo upon the death of Juliet, she said that she’d would not cage a bird.

I guess God smiled that day because what we saw next was divine intervention. A pigeon started visiting us.

We are not sure if it is the same pigeon, but it certainly looks the same and chooses the same branch to sit–right in front of our window–on the same time every day. So, as soon as my daugher has her bath, we open the window to let sunlight in and there it sits waiting for her. Then my daughter takes some time socializing with it.

When the visits became a habit and a daily expectation, my daughter finally named it as Rapunzel. Honestly, I always thought Rapunzel is supposed to have hair long enough to reach down a few floors. He seems more like the prince visiting my daughter (who is Rapunzel, living on top of the tallest tower). But since my daughter is the Disney Princess expert here and the owner-apparent of this wayward pigeon, she gets to decide the name.

At least, she is happy now. Thank God!

Posted in My life

Tattoos and Difficult Clients

Mehendi is a lost art…

Okay, not entirely lost, but it is certainly changed quite a lot. Mehendi tattoos are a pain (only) in the ass because of sitting ducks for hours. You can’t even twiddle thumbs. The traditional subjects for the designs include flowers, peacocks, plants and marriage. But the new generation has changed that.

I made my 4-year old daughter’s Mehendi tattoos a couple of days back on the occasion of Eid. Any guess on the subject?

Right hand (my fault): Before, After and Between

What better way to give your child a Maths lesson that sticks, literally? The numbers are mostly illegible, thanks to my superior(?) skills with Mehendi cones, but well, it served the purpose. In case you are worried, it will wash off within a couple of weeks. ๐Ÿคฃ

Left Hand: Kung Fu Panda and Furious Five

It all started with a random doll and a beaver that my daughter took fancy on. But beavers live near rivers that have fishes and octopus, and they need trees to gnaw. And then, gnawed trees could fall on little dolls. (Please don’t ask me to label the characters. It is too embarrassing. ๐Ÿ˜)

So, Po, the Panda Dragon Warrior, had to come for rescue along with the Furious Five–Monkey, Viper, Mantis and Tigress. I know, there are only four here because Crane decided to stay back to take care of the old Master Shifu (Pssss, I forgot both of them but don’t tell my daughter that.).

Overall, my client was satisfied and declared her Mehendi better than mine, which was, I guess, the best praise I could expect.

What do you think?

Posted in My life

Fourth Day

Four days back when I started my Eid break, I was over the moon for the 9-day break. And in the daze of happiness, I made a hasty promise to my daughter. I said I’ll spend the entire holiday playing with her.

Trust me, I had no idea of what I was getting into when I uttered those words. I had assumed, I will attend a few tea parties with her dolls and, maybe, draw a few animals. But now, I am dealing with the horror of Disney Princess and Animal Planet full blast.

I have binge-watched Grimm’s Fairytales and animal-drawing. Later, as my daughter slept, I willingly watched Masha and the Bear alone to wash out the taste from my brain!

Every day, I am the teacher teaching a class-full of stuffed animals good manners, maths and zoology. Every night, I am the Evil Step-mom taking the stuffed monkey and bear to the ball. I am the Fairy Godmother and also the Prince. I am also the Royal Messenger who puts shoes on Cinderella. I am afraid she will ask me for Snowwhite. I am unsure how to be 7 dwarves at the same time.

Every inch of my daughter’s artbook is now covered with different scenes from Fairytales.

Cinderella walks out in the yard wearing her tiara and best dress while a female dwarf stalks her.

Snowwhite in her tiara deals with lions, beavers, oversized ants and, guess what? sharks in the little rivulet outside her place. All in a day’s work.

The jungle overflows with animals and their babies while a jungle princess (Pocahontas?) in her tiara oversees their comings and goings.

A fairy with specs (Yes, those are wings, and you thought you knew what fairies looked like!) teaches a shorter fairy how to look after whales…

Now, no one can say that fairytale heroines had it easy…

I am so over it. I’m already counting days for this holiday to get over.

Posted in Random Thoughts

As Things Begin to Take Shape

My daughter was born Leonardo Da Vinci and she is just improving from thereon.

I still remember the eight legged lion with its legs sprawled out like a pretty spider, the minimalistic designs of a fish without fins and tail, the cat without limbs and kittens with various degrees of abilities (no hands no legs, hands but no legs, legs but no tail) and her adopted monkey baby.

But now those days are gone and what I see is real stuff.

Please don’t ask the logic of the train, elephant and giraffe in front of the cottage. The cat and rabbit make sense with the girl, so please be grateful for that. I have seen weirder stuff.

The new and improved variety of lion and tiger, along with giraffe half-hidden behind a kangaroo, along with a hippo (pink), gazelle and crocodile (guess?). The outline of the girl can be accepted as a jungle sprite looking over these creatures…

And then there is stuff like this which is actually is superb considering it comes from a 4-year old working only with her imagination.

I’m sure she’ll turn out to be a far better painter than her mom. ๐Ÿ˜

Posted in My life

Busy Bee (Part 2)

I mentioned a couple of projects for my daughter in my last post, but elaborated only one–the folding kitchen. Well, the other one is a jungle/zoo/farm backdrop.

Everybody at home had been complaining about how my daughter’s toy animals turn up everywhere in the house at the most inopportune moment, like on the floor under your bare feet, on the pillows when your head hits it too hard, on the chair seat when you are too tired to check before sitting, under the bed where you can’t pull them out without getting yourself dirty, behind the huge almirah which needs four grown up men to move (we have only three at home)…

I guess, the herbivores have the habit of running away to go looking for grass and plants, and the carnivores follow them to eat them…

Well, it became important to build a ranch/sanctuary/safeplace where they were allowed to roam. It also helps my daughter create stories that I could, then, publish in the blog (Hah! Mastermind me, stealing stories of the minions…).

So, I used an old flat cardboard box to build the backdrop with water colours (all that I could find at home during lockdown).

The walls have silhouette of a deep forest.

I also built a detachable cave and a hollow tree out of a plastic box. The 4-year-old Madame Leonardo Da Vinci coloured it to perfection.

The forest comes with yellow and red trees built out of old coloured cardboard boxes. It also has a fishy pond and an even fishier river that can be moved around at will. These were made of the old plastic sheets from my old organiser diary. The stones donated by an unsuspecting relative add to the effect.

To ensure flexibility to convert it to a zoo, we have combined it with a set of foldable cardboard cages and coloured by the family artist a few months earlier.

The piece is a continuous work in progress since we plan to add grass, a few more trees, a lying down hollow tree, and other cool stuff to build stories. We are gradually working towards adding farm buildings to the set as well. I’m looking forward to building a nice blue ocean out of the box top, thanks to my daughter’s new found love for water creatures.

The best part is that it also works as storage space for all these sets.

All in all the hard work seems to have paid off, considering the time my daughter spends with the set. I had too much fun…so there’s that too.

Posted in My life

Busy Bee

So, you might have noticed that my posting frequency declined greatly lately. Earlier I used to write at least a couple of posts every week. But in the last month, since mid-Ramadan, I went slow, too slow actually.

No, it had nothing to do with fasting, something to do with my book–The Forest Bed–and everything to do with a couple of projects I had going on for my daughter.

As you might know, I love building things with hands. Earlier I saw on You Tube a folding kitchen that a father had created for his daughter where she could stand and cook. The kitchen was simple, clean and orderly with hangers and stands for utensils, a microwave and a working sink. I was specially struck by how everything was in place and ready to play when the girl opened it so the child doesnot spend time setting it all up.

My house doesn’t offer enough space for anything that elaborate. But setting the kitchen up is my daughter’s pain point. Usually by the time she is done with it, it is time to sleep, eat or study. So, I definitely agreed with the ready-to-play and folding kitchen part.

So I built it out of waste material.

The cardboard was home, thanks to Amazon–around 12 X 8 inches. I just cut one side to be folded up and down. Then, I used the side flaps to add to the depth. Of course, they close too when we are folding, making it a compact storage for all the things that were earlier found all over the house. Since cardsheet was not available due to lockdown, we covered it with the artsheets my daughter had already coloured. The utensil hangers are made of old buttons. The racks are made our of smaller cardboard boxes.

Since the space was too small, rather than sticking the oversized plastic stove on the counter top, we painted it on the counter…by we, I mean my humble-self and my very own four-year-old Leonardo da Vinci.

I added a bit of rough outlines for accent…”rough” being the operative word here. I didn’t want to take away the childish feeling from the paintings so I ensured that the outlines were not clean and symmetrical…they were drawn as if I didn’t have my glasses on (which I didn’t)…way off the mark but still leaving a mark (smudge, actually) on the sheet.

Closed front gates open upwards all the way back and down to form the floor.

The crazy fun I had during the process made me question my mental age…which was about five a couple of years back. I think now it has shrunk to three and a half.

I am planning to add a refrigerator and oven on the outerwalls in my next vacations. Any ideas?

Posted in My life

Negotiating with Intelligent Beings: Act 2

Author’s note: I recently had this conversation with my daughter. Note how priorities change with time.

“Mom, Make me a fairy. I want to fly.”

“Baby, I can get the wings from the market for you, but I’m afraid that won’t help you fly. You need hollow bones.”

“Fairies don’t have hollow bones but they fly.”

“First, you don’t know that yet. You’ve never met one. Second, fairies are born as fairies. You were born a human. Maybe you can grow up and become a pilot. Then you can fly.”

“Who’s a pilot?”

“Well, you saw those aeroplanes the other day? Pilots fly them.”

“But I don’t want to fly inside an aeroplane. I want to fly like fairies.”

“Well, there is hand-gliding. You hang on those gliders tied to the wings and fly.”

“I don’t want to hang to anything while I fly. It’s dangerous.”

“Okay, then become a pilot.”

“Fine, make me a pilot.”

“Well, to become a pilot, you must study a lot…for many years…”

“How many years?”

“15-16 years…maybe more…”

(A pregnant pause)

“I think, I’d rather have the scooter you offered the other day…”

Posted in Random Thoughts

Where Do Babies Come From?

The question is a parent’s nightmare. Most of us avoid it as long as we can and try alternate theories, like pollination by bees. ๐Ÿ

One such theory is stork bringing babies home. ๐Ÿฃ I have used it successfully for the past couple of years, thanks to the inspiration and visual support by Disney cartoons. (Dumbo really nailed it.) But now, as my daughter nears her fourth birthday, the questions about logistics are becoming increasingly difficult.

  • How does the crane travel through a storm? ๐ŸŒง
  • How does he track moms at hospital? ๐Ÿฅ
  • How does he deliver bird eggs without breaking them? ๐Ÿฃ
  • Why some eggs that he delivers do not have babies and are okay to eat? ๐Ÿฅš
  • How does he carry elephant babies who are too heavy for him? ๐Ÿ˜
  • How does he drop lice eggs in people’s hair without anyone seeing him? ๐Ÿœ
  • Why we can never see the baby pouch it is holding. ๐Ÿ‘ถ
  • How does he open locked windows? ๐Ÿ’ฅ๐Ÿ’ซ

And last week, a relative’s daughter found out about babies in mama’s stomach. I am afraid she will drop the bomb soon and I will have to deal with the corresponding questions. ๐Ÿ™ˆ๐Ÿ™‰๐Ÿ™ŠI am wondering which tactic to try if it comes to that. The simple XX Chromosome meets XY theory leads to too many uncomfortable questions about the logistics. ๐Ÿ˜ฐ

  • Feign Ignorance ๐Ÿค”: She would wonder if I am a competent mother. She has higher expectations.
  • Deny everything ๐Ÿค“: It is only a matter of time until she will ask someone who confirms the theory. She is persistent.
  • Admit Lying ๐Ÿคฅ: She would wonder why I lied, leading to more probing questions. Her questions can put Socrates to shame.

So, I am feeling completely clueless and incompetent as to how to deal with the impending onslaught. ๐Ÿ˜ต

Too much to consider.

Any suggestions?

Posted in My life, Random Thoughts

Indian Snowman

Lately, my daughter asked me when we’ll have snowfall. She wanted to build a snowman that she had seen it in the cartoons.

But we live in temperate zone and never see snow unless we travel all the way to the mountains. So, together we built an Indian Snowman…the Orange man! He looks rather sunny, I’d say.

Posted in Random Thoughts

Additions to the Ranch

Lately, their have been further additions to my daughter’s 1m x 1m ranch. The last time I posted, she already created super-beings like Dragons and Dinosaurs, who crunched on our furniture and hovered around our heads, and I was beginning to worry about world safety. Now she has moved her exploration to the smaller variety of creepy-crawler type.

Let me introduce you to her only invertebrate pet. He walks all day and doesn’t stop to talk much since it is such a waste of breath. So, we never got around to making introductions.

Her first amphibian is rather a shy person and prefers to hide under his shell all day. It is a wise choice considering the other pets my daughter is creating

This is “Hisssss”(that’s the only name he can pronounce). He joined our ranch last week and has been after Mathew and his progeny ever since. Mathew has been complaining about animal rights and about our prior peace treaty. I told him the clause about “not buying poison” does not include “not inviting snakes”.

These mommy and baby crocodiles have been complaining about the lack of a fish tank in our house from day one and we are hard-pressed to buy one to stop them from eating our other pets. They have also requested for a plover bird to clean their teeth. Talk about high maintenance pets!

There are also some animals from the cute variety.

Here’s the rabbit who has been hiding in my iron safe ever since the snake and crocs appeared.

Caribou, the red-nosed reindeer, is on a vacation before Christmas.

We are expecting some winter guests soon including Flamingos and Cranes. I’ll let you know if they turn up.

Posted in My life

Negotiating with Intelligent Beings

My daughter is notorious for harbouring animals, cooing at live ๐ŸฆŽlizards๐ŸฆŽ and hello-ing hovering ๐Ÿฆ…eagles๐Ÿฆ…. We have been debating lately about the pros and cons of owning real animals.

Iniatlly, it started when we realised that Mathew๐Ÿ (our resident mouse who lives in our house without paying the rent) now has a batch of newborns yet again. We know what to expect next–mice overrunning๐Ÿ the house๐Ÿ, playing around๐Ÿ in pairs๐Ÿ๐Ÿ, looking around๐Ÿ the house๐Ÿ๐Ÿ for new property๐Ÿ to build homes๐Ÿ, chewing๐Ÿ on our fingers๐Ÿ–๐Ÿ๏ธ while we sleep (it happened when I applied coconut cream)…

So she saw the opportunity to ask for a cat ๐Ÿˆ “to kill the mice ๐Ÿ๐Ÿˆ” and play with her ๐Ÿ‘ง๐Ÿˆ in her free time. But I countered that the cat would eat the birds๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฆ‰๐Ÿ•Š๏ธ๐Ÿˆthat frequent our rooftop and drink away all her milk๐Ÿฅ›๐Ÿˆ.

Then she asked for a cow๐Ÿ„ to ensure we had a never-ending milk supply๐Ÿฅ›๐Ÿฅ›๐Ÿฅ›. Upon my objection that we didn’t have enough space indoors, she offered to keep it on the rooftop. I relented and asked her to carry the cow๐Ÿ„ upstairs in her arms, since it couldn’t climb the three floors on her own. She asked me for help, but I had to decline the generous offer considering that both I and her father were too old for such antics.

That was when she realised that the cow would eat her Aelovera plant๐ŸŒฑ๐Ÿ„, and kick the (imaginary) pet monkeys๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ„ who sleep on our rooftop every night. So we dropped the plan of buying a cow, and the cat got suspended until the milk crisis was resolved.

Then she asked if she could build a nest inside the house to woo the pigeons๐Ÿ•Š๏ธ๐Ÿ•Š๏ธ๐Ÿ•Š๏ธ that have been frequenting our area (I told her how birds hate cages). She was super excited about the little pigeon babies๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿฅ that would live in them someday. But I reminded her that the cat might eat them ๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿˆ.

So she asked for a dog๐Ÿ• to keep the cat under control๐Ÿฅ๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ•. But I reminded her that both the animals together would drink all her milk๐Ÿฅ›๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ•.

She again suggested the cow๐Ÿ„ for the milk for the animals๐Ÿฅ›๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ• and I requested her to carry it up the three floors to the rooftop.

She, then, decided it was a good idea to drop the cow, and in the process, dropping the cat, dog and pigeons as well, and invest in a good rat๐Ÿ poison.

Such a relief!

Posted in Random Thoughts

The Bandits and the Princess

Long ago there was a girl who lived in a small town that constantly lived in the fear of bandits…this story is not about her.

This story is about my daughter who has a bandit-fetish. Note that we live in a pretty peaceful town…well, as peaceful as an Indian small town in Uttar Pradesh could be, considering the population density of 828 people per square km area. And there are certainly no bandits.

It all began when my daughter watched a cartoon where her favourite character Masha played Robin Hood and asked me who Robin Hood was. I told him he was a bandit who stole from the rich and gave to poor. I was trying to invoke her respect for Robin for helping the poor. But my daughter’s perspective came from the side of the rich he looted.

Ever since, she began asking questions…

Do bandits come during the day? Do they come during the night? Why would they come to our house?

I assured her that they do not come to our town, and we weren’t rich enough and they would certainly never visit us. From my side, the topic was closed, but from her side, it was hardly the case.

First day, she began worrying about her favourite toys, urging that I hide them away somewhere safe at night. I assured her bandits do not play with toys. But then she countered, what if they take it for their baby? It took a lot of assurance to leave the toys in their regular place.

Next she urged I hide away all her favourite dresses too. I told her bandits own their own clothes, and would hardly be interested in such a small size. But she countered, what if they have a baby. A truly valid point… I had to hide her dresses in iron safe.

Lately, she told me to hide away her one rupee coin (1 pence) that I hid in my work drawer and her kebab that is hiding in fridge, while her biscuits, pasta and noodles are in a danger of becoming bandit-food.

You can’t watch everything!

Posted in My life

Lessons on Minimalism

My daughter is a minimalist. Her paintings contain only what is absolutely necessary. For example:

Two caterpillars and half-a-fish

Her caterpillars have multiple feet, yet her fish is an oval without fins or tail…but what’s the big deal! The fish knows she needs neither fins nor feet while living out of water. She is what she is and that should suffice.

Two horned (African) Rhino

This two horned Rhino…just so that you know, the horns are blue triangle patches and round orange patches are the eyes. She told me it is African, and hence the two horns.

Monkey atop a fish’s head

Her monkey has no hands nor legs but makes do with his tail. No need to add extra weight to his frail body that already carries the weight of an oversized head. The head beneath him belongs to a fish (a hammer head shark, it seems from the shape of it!).

Cat with her litter of five kitten and an adopted monkey.

The best part is the cat. She has two legs and a tail, and a litter of five kitten-blue and black. All her babies are unique in shape and have different characteristics (two legs, no legs; ears, no ears; body, no body…). She also seems to have adopted a yellow baby monkey (because I have been assured by the painter herself that it is indeed a baby monkey and not a cat). He also seems to be wearing a monocle on his eye, however, the painter declined to comment. I believe diversity and inclusion is the cause.

She created all these paintings in her first attempt at painting on the day she turned three. It was a hasty work to finish the masterpieces before any interception from a meddling mother.

The background was the walls of the playschool I had created for my daughter on her birthday out of an old refrigerator box (since she could not go to Playschool this year, thanks to COVID 19). My daughter quickly painted the inside walls while I was busy arranging food for hungry mouths. I hadn’t even finished sticking chartsheets on the outer surfaces by then. She had a gala time.

But now the playhouse had to be retired because of its depleted condition. I have pictures for memories though.

Here is some work we had done together on the walls. I had written a couple of posts about it earlier.

1.5 Dollar playhouse

3 Dollar playshool

Posted in My life

Of Sheep and Lion and wayward Hippos

My daughter’s next killer story. Please note that the entire story has been lifted…I mean, inspired by a Disney story called Lambert, The Sheepish Lion.

Original plot:

  • One night a flock of sheep is sleeping on a farm. ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ
  • A stork, by mistake, delivers a Lion baby to a Sheep. ๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ
  • The rest of the sheep make fun of him, ๐Ÿˆ
  • and he grows as rather a sheepish lion, who is “not ferocious like a sheep but has rather a sheepish grin”. ๐Ÿฆ
  • One night, a wolf ๐Ÿบ tries to pull away his mother ๐Ÿ, the sheep, by the tail to eat her.
  • She cries for help. ๐Ÿ
  • It wakes the Lion’s inner ferocious Sheep. ๐Ÿฆ
  • He ๐Ÿฆ runs to the wolf ๐Ÿบ, gives him a head butt like a true sheep, throwing him down a cliff. ๐Ÿ
  • He becomes a beloved Hero.

It is a lovely video about finding your true identity. You can watch it on You Tube via this link.

So, I had asked my daughter to tell me a story (to escape a similar request from her). I told her I wanted a story of a Hippo. She offered the Hare and Tortoise again and later, Lambert the Sheepish Lion. But I told her, I wanted a Hippo story. So, she simply replaced ‘Sheep’ and ‘Lion’ with ‘Hippo’. Here is her story.

  • One night a flock of Hippos was sleeping on a farm. ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ
  • A stork delivers a Hippo to the Hippo mom. ๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿ (Of course, the stork won’t always be making wrong deliveries. He isn’t your local postman.)
  • The rest of the hippos make fun of him. (Not sure why…) ๐Ÿˆ
  • He grows as rather a…Hippo. ๐Ÿฆ (What else would you expect?)
  • One night, a wolf ๐Ÿบ tries to pull away his mother, the Hippo, by the tail to eat her. (At this point, I remind her that hippos are rather heavy to be pulled by the tail. She explains that it was rather a strong wolf.)
  • She cries for help. ๐Ÿ (I ask her why the Hippo mom did not bite the wolf with her large teeth, but she ignores the question and ploughs on.)
  • It wakes his inner Hippo. (Of course!) ๐Ÿฆ
  • He๐Ÿฆ runs to the wolf๐Ÿบ, gives him a headbutt, like a true hippo throwing him down a cliff. He becomes a beloved Hero. (Tadaaaaaaaaa)
Posted in Nature

I am Ron Weasley

Some of you might have heard of my post about the rebellion amongst the minions in my castle. Bees, wasps and spiders had taken over the place as a revenge for Eid-cleaning. We had been hiding out in the tunnel that Matthew, the rat, had built last year. In return, we had to promise to never use the not-so-poisonous rat poison that his kids were addicted to. He said it was disgraceful in extreme to find his kids rolling around the drains, and the new rats–that were moving in to try the ‘stuff’–were bad influence!

Well! So, we hid there for around a fortnight, until we were able to sign a peace treaty with the rebels. It includes the No Wall Cleaning, No Honey Usage and No Destruction of Web/Nest/Hive clauses.

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I can finally truly empathize with Ron Weasley from the Harry Potter book. The way he confessed his fear for spiders. Remember the scene of Aragog’s lair? Spiders roughly the size of a car covering every inch of the space and crowding around the heroes clicking their pincers. It is my recurring dream now.

My three-year old daughter decided to commemorate the occasion(?) of treaty with the following painting.

You can see three humans–Me in the front, baby in the middle and W covering our backs– as we run away from the spiders that surround us.

And we end up running right into them, like a zombie horror show, alien attack or End-of-World movie. The pictures came too close for comfort!

If you find too many legs on each spider in the picture, I must remind you, my daughter is a pro, and takes creative liberty in her pieces. Moreover, it is the thought that counts. Eeeek!

Posted in My life

Three Humans and Two-legged Crocodile

I’m sure a lot of you wonder how I look after growing up, since my current profile picture indicates my mental age, around three years. Well, I’ve decided to share a family portrait, curtsey my daughter, aged three and half…

I am the one on the right.

Please note the striking resemblance. It has a head of hair, two eyes, a nose and a smile, two legs and a hand with fingers. Not sure where the other hand is…probably busy typing this post…

The guy on the left is my husband. Again, please note the striking resemblance: a head with hair (though they look a bit short-circuited and slightly longer than usual but I guess, everyone has weird long hair during COVID-19 year), two eyes, a nose and a mouth, two hands and two legs. Not sure why he is wearing a skirt. He is definitely not a bagpiper…but then, she hasn’t learnt how to draw pants.

The one in the middle is my daughter. Again, note how she is being naughty on one side (probably plucking the feather from the pillows), while keeping an eye on her mum, ensuring she doesn’t get caught!

If you are wondering where the two-legged Crocodile is, he is the faint shadow on the top right trying to hobble into black water on its two legs on one side. As to why it has only two legs, my daughter declined to explain. But she told me that two were more than enough.

I do not question her judgement–she’s a pro. I remember the day I reminded her that her monkey doesn’t have a tail. After a quick thought, she told me its a Chimpanzee. Well, as long as she can defend her point…