No wasted words

          Most mornings, I drop Arjun off in a cul-de-sac from where he can walk down to his school.  This is a very popular drop-off area for many parents and as such, the intersections are somewhat chaotic with cars stopping and kids crossing the streets. One recent morning, as we approached the last intersection, I noticed his good friend Victor crossing the road in front of us. I was a bit surprised since we had never encountered Victor over the 8 months that I had been dropping Arjun off at that spot - and you tend to see the same cars and students almost everyday. I exclaimed, "Hey, Victor is here too!" But there was no reaction from Arjun - he didn't respond or make any attempt to catch up to his friend. Now, I was not entirely surprised by this - Arjun is a somewhat phlegmatic sort, not given to idle persiflage (I had promised Abhi some Wodehousian flourishes in this blog).  Even figuring out what projects and homework are due on any given day is a diabolical variation of Twenty Questions - eliciting Yes/No responses is hard enough, but you also need to judge the reliability of each response.  I just shrugged off his apparent lack of enthusiasm.
Then, remarkably, the same thing happens the very next day: I see Victor crossing the street in front of us at the exact same spot. I go: "Wow, there is Victor again!" Again, not a peep from Arjun - he just sort gives me a look. I am a little miffed now - isn't he carrying this don't care, indifferent teenager act a bit too far? I continued: "All these months I have been dropping you here and we never once see Victor.  Then two days in a row we see him in the exact place - that's a crazy coincidence!  Don't you think?"  Still not so much as a shoulder shrug from Arjun - just a look.  Now I begin to think that he is just messing with me - maybe this is not a surprise for him?  I go: "Unless you guys planned this! Is that what's going on?" I was feeling a bit clever as well for having figured it out - this would explain it all! It seemed like I had finally hit a nerve  - Arjun turned towards me and in a calm drawl: "Well...that's not Victor. So..."

"NOT Victor? Why didn't you tell me yesterday itself? Why did you let me keep thinking it was Victor?"

"Well, I kept expecting you to figure it out yourself."

Turns out Victor takes the bus to school and the chance of encountering him anywhere else was exactly zero.  

Everyday is Mother's Day

Every parent has likely said something along the lines of, "However old you may get, you will always be my baby!" As kids, they likely look up to us parents, perhaps we are even their heroes.  However, I am wont to think that before too long, the scales drop.  But, maybe not....

Recently one of our engineer friends showed up on a list of "10 powerful women in the world of technology." Malini was perusing the list and Abhi happened to be sitting nearby.  She thought the mention was pretty cool and worth sharing. So she called him over and showed him the title of the article and in a bid to pique his interest some more, she said, "Abhi, there is somebody on this list that you know."  Now, Malini quit her software engineering job pretty much the day Abhi was born and he has only heard about her having worked in the tech industry. But, pat came his query, "You, amma?"

To him, amma was clearly still Superwoman. 

Matter of Fact

Abhi is six, but still a pretty small guy. We have been trying to get him to eat better in the hope that it will aid his growth rate. One recent evening he wanted me to carry him upstairs to get ready for bed. I relented and as I went up the stairs, I remarked, "It's a good thing you are so small Abhi - I think I will be able to carry you your entire life." The sarcasm was of course completely lost on him. He took me at face value and asked,
"Really? Even when I am really old?"
Me: "Yes, even when you are really old." Wondering to myself what "really old" was to a six year old. I got my answer right away:
Abhi: "Even when I am 15?"
Me (wincing at the thought of 15 being "really old"): "Yes, even when you are 15."
Abhi ups the ante: "Even when I am 100?"
I hesitated to answer given the odds of me carrying anything when he is 100. But I sort of murmur a yes.  But Abhi is not listening. The coin has dropped and he realizes that all may not be well:
"But what will you be when I am 100?" While I hesistate again, he does the math in his head and exclaims:
"You will be dead!"

One More From Abhi

The little guy doth talk a lot - almost non-stop at times. You resort to strong arm tactics to get some respite and very soon you are missing the chatter and find the silence deafening. And then you start seeking ways to get them talking again without losing face. Just one of the many parenting traps.

Ok, back to the story.  BTW, a little knowledge of colloquial Hindi may be required to "get" this one.

Malini was putting the boys to sleep - the usual routine being to read to Abhi (while Arjun reads his book), and then turn off the lights and lie down with them until they drift off to sleep. Of course, most often Malini is the one who falls asleep first and has to be woken up later. Anyway, the reading was done and the light was off, but Abhi would not stop chatting. It was just one question after the other. Finally, in exasperation, Malini exclaimed, "Arre mere baap, just sleep already!" Of course, Abhi immediately wanted to know what that meant - What is "mere baap?" Malini gave the literal translation ("my father") and then added, "Ok, now go to sleep." Promptly came the reply from Abhi: "Why should I listen to you? I am your father!"

Abhi-isms

Turns out, we do forget. When your child does or says something that seems memorable, the general tendency is believe that you will never forget it. Ironically enough, we were reminded of this while indulging in a newly popular pastime at home - watching old home videos of Arjun and Abhishek. I collect stories and both Arjun and Abhi have been a rich source of them.  Unfortunately, many of Arjun's stories are either lost to the mists of memory or involve potty training (or lack thereof) and the risk of future embarrassment is too high. Abhi, on the other hand, has a bit of a knack for smart comebacks and I want to record some of them before they fade. I

1: Abhi and Arjun were playing Wii football with Suraj.  Abhi and Suraj were on the same team with Suraj being the Quarter Back and Abhi being the Running Back. They were struggling on offense and Abhi kept insisting on a particular play.  Suraj finally gave in and selected that play only to have it fail miserably. He turned to Abhi and complained, "See what you made me do! I knew that play wouldn't work!!" If he was expecting a "My Bad" from Abhi, he was sadly mistaken. Abhi responded, "It's your fault. Which QB listens to the running back?"

2: We were in the midst of the morning rush and as happens sometimes, Abhi was still eating his breakfast (Cheerios) while getting ready to wear his shoes. He was wearing a blue shorts and had a pair of tan socks on.  In a bid to needle him a bit, Malini goes, "Abhi, you picked the wrong socks, they don't match your shorts." Without missing a beat, Abhi came back with, "Yes, but they match my Cheerios!"

3: This is not a comeback, but still quite amusing. The boys and I were watching Game 5 of the St Louis - Philly baseball playoffs and the STL pitcher, Chris Carpenter was pitching an absolutely amazing game. The Philly offense is full of stars, but he had completely shut them down. As we watched him strikeout one more Philly batter, Abhi exclaimed, "Carpenter is on heat!!" I did a double take: "On heat? What's that??" Abhi repeated, "He is on heat!" Then it dawned on me - you know the expression for somebody playing really well - "He is on fire?"  Well, this was Abhi's take on that.

4: Abhi is all about winning and he can get quite upset when he loses (at anything). Until he figured out how to play the NFL game on the XBox, he would give up his turn to Arjun and prefer to enjoy a vicarious victory rather than a direct loss. We were watching some NBA playoff game and he kept asking me which team I was supporting. I replied that I didn't really care, but which team was he supporting? He responded, "I don't know." Me: "Why don't you know?" With impeccable logic, he replied: "I don't know who is going to win. So, I don't know which team to support."

Gender Issues

Malini and Arjun were planning his 8th birthday party when Arjun suddenly observed, "Amma, time is going by so fast!" Coming from Arjun, this was not an entirely surprising comment - he tends to be somewhat preternaturally inclined towards such thoughts. Not wanting to miss out on a teachable moment, Malini quickly followed up with, "Yes Arjun, soon both of you will be all grown up and have to deal with all kinds of responsibilities."  Abhi - who just turned 5 and is an expert on all matters - chimed in, "And you will have to go to work like Acha." And then without missing a beat he continued, "Unless you are a girl - then you can sit at home and relax."

Fast forward to the weekend and we are having bagels for breakfast - I was doing the toasting and serving and Malini (ever hopeful) comments to the boys, "Acha is going to take care of all the food this weekend."  Arjun had no comment, but Abhi was having none of it: "What, we are going to have omelet for dinner? That's all Acha knows to make!"

I tried explaining that before he was born Malini used to work in an office just like me and that I used to cook regularly while in school, but I could see that my audience was highly skeptical. He knew what our respective roles were and that was that.

Limits

Arjun has always been a bit more interested in music than I think is average (he once requested a specific Bob Dylan song), but Abhi is a bit more derivative in his interests - usually, keying off what Arjun, Malini, or I like. With "Rock-On" it was different though - both boys firmly took possession of the album and Abhi, in particular would hum garbled phrases from the songs throughout the day. One line (from the title song) in particular used to puzzle me a great deal. He would go: "Hurlum Huppukkara." Now, I am the guy who sang, "Samjota Samose Kar Lo" instead of "Samjota Gumon Se Kar Lo" so who was I to throw stones? I finally asked Malini what Abhi was trying to say. Turned out the line is "Har Lamha Yehe Pukara."

Arjun is a lot more catholic in his musical taste - tolerating, and even enjoying almost anything I would play for him - Jazz, Carnatic, Hindi film music, and of course, ghazals. Abhi, on the other hand is a lot less tolerant of all this non-kid friendly music and doesn't hesitate to express his displeasure. While driving him to school every morning, if its not the Eagles (specifically, Hotel California, which he can listen to on a loop), it better be some kid's music. Of course, he is equally happy, if not happier, if I turn off the music and answer his questions about the cars next to us or specific situations that might arise in an NFL game.

Even so, I thought he was getting indoctrinated what with Malini also playing Ghulam Ali songs almost incessantly at home. Then one night I was trying to put the boys to sleep. Our normal modus operandi for this is to lie down with them, read them each their book selections, and then turn off the lights and fall asleep - there is no use pretending to do so - I tried that once and opened my eyes to find Abhi staring at me from about 2 inches away checking on me. Since sleep does not come that easily, I take requests for songs and they are usually some rhymes. On this night, I proposed a ghazal and Arjun agreed. Abhi demurred and then changed his mind - ghazal was ok with him. Invoking my best Ghulam Ali, I started:
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara...
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara... (repeating the opening line as in every ghazal rendition).
But, Abhi had already had enough. I was just starting to repeat the line again when he broke in with almost perfect timing: "Is that all you know, acha?"
I burst out laughing and while he had no idea why it was amusing, he took full credit for it and for several days afterwards would ask me to sing this song just so that he could interject with, "Is that all you know, acha?"

Child's Play

Lately, friday evening has become Xbox game night which means Madden NFL 10. Arjun was engrossed in a Saints Vs Redskins game and Abhi was getting antsy for his turn. In a bid to distract him, I suggested that he do his pretend game - this is something he is always doing: simulate the snap and then pretend to be the QB who throws an imaginary ball and after the throw is done, switch to being the receiver, who more often than not fails to make the catch. There is much rolling, tackling, and quite a few injuries, all accompanied by play-by-play narration. Each play is of course followed by a slow motion replay of what happened with added expert commentary.

Abhi quickly brightened upon my suggestion and right away went into the stance ready to snap the ball. In the Xbox game, you are given three or four choices for the play to run along with the button ('A', 'X', 'Y', etc) to press for the particular play. In a bid to make things a bit more interesting for Abhi, I pretended that I had a xbox remote in my hand and announced that I was pressing 'A.' He immediately liked this new variation and started insisting that I "press" a button before each snap. We did this a couple of times and both times the (pretend) receiver failed to hold on to the (pretend) ball. On the third occasion, the receiver apparently held on to the ball and proceeded to score a touchdown. I thought some celebration was indicated and enthusiastically beckoned Abhi to come for a high-five. All I got in response was a frown. I once again called, "Abhi, come, high-five - you scored a touchdown." Another frown and then in an exasperated tone, "Achaaaa, I am in the TV!"

You see, what I had failed to grasp was that this was not your run of the mill pretend NFL game - on the contrary this was a pretend version of a pretend game (Madden NFL 10), which any 3 year old will tell you, happens "inside the TV" and you certainly cannot high-five those players.

Ghosts, Goblins, & Superheroes

Halloween is upon us and little ghosts and goblins are going to be roaming the neighborhoods demanding a sugar fix. For the past few years, we have made do with 2 costumes - a clown costume that Arjun wore for a couple of years and was then handed down to Abhi for the last two years. In the meantime, Arjun got a race car driver outfit that he has worn for the last two years. The costume required various adjustments to facilitate a better fit and it is only now that Arjun has grown enough to fit in it without any alterations. Of course, he is bored with it now. They both have new costumes for this time - Arjun is going to be 'Ironman' while Abhi is outfitted to be a 'Red Dragon Ninja.' This is a character of rather dubious provenance, but goes well with Abhi's recent closely cropped haircut. He could join Robinhood's gang with nary a raised eyebrow.

We got the costumes on Monday and they have been wearing it every night till it is time for bed. They can hardly wait to go out trick-or-treating. In fact, on Monday they were almost too excited to fall asleep, all in anticipation of Halloween night. Abhi's costume has a lot of loose folds and today we discovered that it fits Arjun just fine (& in fact probably actually has the intended look) - this is going to a be first for us - a hand-me-up: next year, Arjun can be the Red Dragon Ninja.

Arjun likes Pomegranate juice and I had bought the big bottle from Costco upon his request. Couple of days ago, I was pouring the last of it for myself. Abhi, who was drinking his milk was apparently following this closely and called out, "Why did you finish that, acha?"
Me (somewhat confused, since Abhi is not a big juice drinker): "Why, do you want some?"
Abhi: "No, but aeta likes to drink that juice." Arjun who was sitting nearby, nodded his head in confirmation.
I poured the juice back and wondered where this fraternal caring was at other times. Abhi got a pumpkin from his field trip, but has been protesting every suggestion of getting one for Arjun, coming up with one creative reason after another including insisting that Arjun had told him that he does not want a pumpkin. In this case at least, he would rather deny his brother.

Mr. Abhi Goes to School

Despite all their similarities, Arjun and Abhi have very distinct personalities. Arjun is the earnest one, Abhi is the interesting one. Arjun is driven more internally while Abhi is the reactive one. Many of his likes and dislikes seem to suspiciously mirror those of Arjun's. Going to school was no different. Arjun pretty much took to school (both Scripps Montessori and PV Elementary) right away, making friends and being totally involved and dedicated to his school work and activities. He is a bit of a perfectionist (total mystery to us of course) and gets very upset if you try to suggest that he is not doing something the correct way (once again, a big mystery).

Abhi could not wait to start school. He wanted to be just like his "eatta" and given his multiple visits to Arjun's class in Scripps, he was raring to go. The first week was fine and then the glow seemed to vanish. School was not just fun and games. There were lessons to be done and stuff to be learned. You had to repeat the same lesson and even worse, you had to remember what you had been taught. He adopted the tears strategy - as soon as his teacher (Ms Ada) asked him to do a lesson, he would burst into tears. She soon cut back from 3 lessons a day to just one. We would elicit promises from him every morning that he would not cry that day. Ms Ada was rather puzzled because he seemed to pick up stuff pretty quickly. Given his exposure to Arjun's learning and Malini's efforts, he was clearly ahead of where Arjun was when he started.

When I asked him why he didn't want to do the lessons, Abhi said that it was because, "I know I can't do it." Maybe our actions have something to do with this: We would often get upset when Arjun would make mistakes or be slow in doing some of his home work. So this may be Abhi's way of avoiding all that unpleasantness. Of course given that this is Abhi, I wouldn't put it past him to have computed that this is the easier way to get out of doing work!

Through all this, Abhi's natural instincts continued to shine through. Once after a bout of crying he told Ms Ada, "Don't tell my parents I cried. Its our secret." Another time, he asks her,
"What time will my amma pick me up?"
Ada: "11.30."
Abhi: "When will it be 11.30?"
Ada explained how the two clock hands would be positioned at 11.30. Then Abhi asks her:
"Can you please get me a small clock so that I can keep it with me? I want to know when it is 11.30."

Thankfully, things are looking up a bit. He has been better the last few days, going so far as to actually ask for lessons to do. He has worked his way up to 4 lessons a day and seems to enjoy (or at least tolerate) school much more. He would still like to be done though: Yesterday he wanted to know why he could not graduate like Arjun had earlier this year and then supplied the answer on his own: "Because I am not a big boy."
What gives us more cause for hope though is what he did in class yesterday: Out of the blue, he told Ms Ada that he wanted to sing a song for her and then proceeded to sing a made-up song which he refused to divulge to us. Starting to see their teachers as equals to their parents is a big milestone in a kids schooling life. Has Abhi reached that point? Maybe, but we are keeping our fingers crossed.

Too Trusting By Half

Harini shared this story at the RD-Bhoj taco party on Saturday and I am repeating it here without permission. The talk had circled around to kids asking to have pets and ways to say no to them (at least in most cases), when Harini mentioned that they have a goldfish. The crowd was a bit surprised - You have a fish tank? Well, it's not much of a tank - just a little thing really and Harini gestured with her hands to indicate a small box. How many fish, an enquiring mind wanted to know? Oh, just one. And is it doing well? Yes, but....oh good, there was a story here. So apparently what happened was that when the fish came home, the kids (or was it Harini? I forget) took it out of the water and left it on the counter top "momentarily" before dropping it into the tank. The fish seemed fine and the kids went to bed happy to have a new friend. Soon after though, Harini saw the fish doing the belly-up float, which fish in the pink of health are not wont to do. Siva was promptly dispatched to WalMart which fortunately is open at 10.30pm. He came back with a fish that sort of looked like its predecessor - only a bit more orange and a lot more plump. He went in the tank and down the toilet went the first guy.

The next morning, the kids ran to check out their new pal and there he was - swimming along just fine. Pranav though, noticed a difference and commented to his sister, "Wow, see how much he has grown in just one night?" His older and wiser sister was quick to dismiss him: "No you silly, he is not any bigger. Its just the light - see how much more orange it makes him look?"

Little did it occur to them that a switcheroo had taken place - after all who would do such a thing?

Abhi Makes Progress

It has been a while since I blogged and it is not for want of things to write about - time has been in short supply. Anyway, I am going to try and get a couple of things out quickly.

Abhi recently achieved a significant milestone - he is riding his bike without training wheels! The purchase of a bigger bike (20") for Arjun seemed to be the trigger and he put aside his hesitation and got it down in a couple of sessions in our local park. Now he is eager to go riding everyday and most evenings both Arjun and Abhi ride to and from our park. It is possible the recently concluded Tour De France had some influence as well. All of us (yes, including Malini) watched each day's race with great interest and the boys absorbed a lot from the coverage and commentary. Just before he managed to ride without his training wheels Abhi would ask if he could ride in the TDF once he learnt to ride. He took to calling himself 'Alberto Contador' and would only respond to that name, but only while he was on the bike. As they ride around in our cul-de-sac, Arjun keeps a constant running commentary going about an imaginary bike race in which he is involved.

Arjun likes Boost in his milk and we ran out last week. So I mixed in some Horlicks for both of them and after some reluctance they both drank it up. When I asked how it was, both replied "good." I was eager to press it home (since we have about 3 kgs of that stuff accumulated), so I asked if they would have it every time with their milk. No response. Arjun was watching a show, so that was understandable - it typically takes a 6.4 earthquake to break his TV focus. I asked again. This time Abhi gives me a considering look and replies, "It is good, but not that good."

One of my pet beefs is the amount of toys all our kids have. This abundance and variety of toys stymies their natural imagination. Notice how much fun kids will have with a cardboard box and some foam pieces if that is all they have to play with. Giving kids a whole bunch of toys has basically the same effect as sticking them in front of Cartoon Network all day long. We pretty much stopped buying toys for the boys about 3 years ago. It doesn't really seem to bother them - they play just fine with the ones they have and often create new games from whatever is around. A recent example is "TT Golf." This consists of a fly swatter (the club), a sketch pen (the tee), and a TT ball. It is rather fun and safe to play indoors - you should try it sometime.

Sanjay Gets a Job

I had promised Keerti that I would blog about this and it should be quick, so might as well start with this one.

A few weeks ago we were gathered in Chez Anands for a round of poker. The boys were watching a movie and while Arjun tends to watch everything with deep concentration, Abhi tends to be easily distracted. So he starts jumping around and comes running into the living room to announce that the couch is broken. This had of course happened a while ago when RDX had had a little accident with that couch. So this announcement doesn't cause any great concern, but Keerti decides to play along:

Keerti: "Oh no Abhi, how did break?"

Abhi: "I don't know. It just broke."

Keerti: "Oh, what do we do now? Do you know anybody who can fix it?"

Abhi (after giving it some thought): "No, I don't know anybody."

Keerti: "How about Sanju-mama? Maybe he can fix it?" (no doubt in consideration of SK's carpentry skills)

Abhi's eyes light up and he responds in the all-knowing tone he takes in such situations: "Yaah! Sanju-mama is a plumber."

It's Simple Really

Sometimes we as adults complicate things by trying to make more out of a situation - fortunately I get regular reminders from my (& other) kids....

As the Karaoke session was in full swing during Arjun's BD party Abhi came to me and whispered that he had to do the "big" job (or "big potty" as I have heard some others call it). These are usually high alert moments, so I quickly sprang to attention and took him into the downstairs toilet. Typically we would leave him there until we heard his, "Alllll done, achaaa/ammaaaa" announcement. However, since the party was going on, I stayed inside and shut the door.
Soon my over-sensitive olfactory senses were being assaulted and instead of waiting, I quickly flushed. Then I asked Abhi if he was done. He shook his head in the negative, but still seemed inclined to get up. So I asked, "Why don't you put fully then?"
Abhi: "But you already flushed." (See, we normally flush only after he says he is done. By flushing early I had apparently sent the message that he is "done.") Not wanting to accept responsibility, I attempted to throw it back at hime with, "Oh, that was only because I couldn't take the smell." He was going to have none of that and responded, "Well, you should have stayed far away then."

From the Mouth of Babes....

Being surprised at the level of maturity displayed by today's kids is nothing new, but the following two examples are still somewhat startling.

Couple of nights ago, I am loading the dishwasher after dinner when Abhi comes by campaigning to play some game. (Arjun is totally engrossed in a coloring project - as he has been ever since getting a new set of sketch pens and stencils.) After I found that I was not able to distract him, I said, "Just wait for some time. I'll finish loading and then play with you." He gives me a frustrated look, clamps his palms over his eyes and with a foot stomp proclaims, "This does not work for me!" Apparently he learned this from his big brother. Figures.

Last evening I was shopping in Target for a specific toy requested by Arjun for his birthday - a "Draganoid" Bakugan.
I was having no luck scanning the shelves full of various Bakugan offerings. I was about to give up when a kid walks up and starts examining the toys with a knowing air. Turns out he is heavily into Bakugan and starts educating me (apparently the Drago characters have 'evolved' - into what, I have no clue) and points out the different characters. He is trying to give me some of the back story, but is clearly getting impatient at this old geezer who is just not catching on. At one point he shows me a multi-pack and suggests that I could get that. I ask (with perhaps unnecessary naivette), "Why, is it better to get this multi-pack?" And the kid, who is no more than 7 years old, pauses, looks up at me and in all seriousness replies, "Only if you want your child to have more of them." I swear, those were his exact words.

The Parenting Instinct

It is kind of fun (albeit sometimes disconcerting) to see Arjun playing the parent with Abhishek. He will use the same reasoning and sometimes the exact same words that we have used with him. I guess this should give us some assurance that he has indeed been paying attention, but sometimes its bit like, did we really say that?

Their bedtime ritual is pretty simple - drink a cup of milk each, brush their teeth, read a book, and go to sleep. The other day Arjun drank his milk quickly while Abhi had drunk only about half and for whatever reason Arjun decided that he had to get Abhi to drink up the rest. Neither Malini nor I had said anything - Abhi is fond of milk and he will drink what he wants without any prompting.

Arjun (in a very mature tone): "Abhi, you haven't drunk anything. You should finish your milk."
Abhi: "No, I don't want to."
Arjun: "Why are you doing like this Abhi? Here, finish it." Abhi is not budging. Now came the admonishments:
Arjun: "If you don't drink the milk, you will be hungry. And if you wake up in the night hungry I am not going to come down and bring you food." The funny part is of course that this has no connection to reality - there is no way Arjun is waking up in the night to do anything, let alone bring food for Abhi - but this is exactly what we have tried on him a million times, futilely of course.

That has no effect and instead Abhi starts playing with a little truck. After all, he has got his pride to consider. Arjun tries a new tack:
Arjun: "Abhi, give me that truck. Aeta will show you a game." But of course, Abhi was going to have none of that and ran away with the truck.
More parental channeling on Arjun's part: "Abhi, I am not going to chase you. I am going to count to 10, if you don't give aeta the truck by then, aeta is not going to play with you."
The counting starts and now its a game of chicken - who is going to blink first? I sense that Abhi is really in no mood to give in, but I don't want Arjun to lose face. So I step in and encourage Abhi to give the truck to Arjun, which he just manages to do as the count reaches 10. So, now the "game" begins:
Arjun (balancing the sippy cup on the truck): "Aeta will push the truck to you. When the truck reaches you, you drink some milk and push the truck back to me."
I am thinking, yeah, sure, this is going work, and what do you know: As soon as the truck reaches him, Abhi happily picks up the cup and starts chugging away. Clearly, we are better role models than we thought.....:-)

Bone Chicken & Chocolate Cake

We celebrated Abhishek's 3rd birthday last Friday in a low key manner, partly by design and partly due to circumstances. We realized just over a week ago that we had not planned anything and instead of scrambling to do something more elaborate, we decided to keep it small. We also had the idea that we would do something jointly for Arjun and Abhishek, since Arjun's BD is only 4 weeks away.

Malini told Arjun that the two of them would go shopping for a gift "when Abhi was sleeping," the idea being that it would be a surprise to Abhi. The concept was not entirely clear to Arjun. As soon as I got home, he described the plan in detail in full earshot of Abhi, who seemed to be very much part of the plan. He went, "I will be sleeping and aeta (i.e. Arjun) will put the gift on my night stand. When I wake up in the morning, I will open it." To both of them, the surprise part was the identity of the gift and not the fact that Arjun was getting Abhi a gift. Anyway, we all ended up going and we had a cover story for Abhi (Arjun had to be restrained from revealing the true purpose). Malini took Abhi elsewhere while Arjun and I went to the toy section. Arjun was eager to give Abhi the 'surprise' right away (this was still 2 days before his BD) and I had to do some convincing to make him wait.

The day before his BD, Malini asked Abhi what he wanted for breakfast on his birthday. He promptly replied, "Bone chicken!" This is his term for any chicken piece which still has the bone in it. Malini: "You can't have bone chicken for breakfast." Abhi: "Ok, then I'll have tofu soup," which is of course his second favorite thing to eat.

I hadn't been taking too many photos lately and wanted to take a few before Abhi turned 3. So, we did that before they headed up to sleep and then I had to distract Abhi while Malini and Arjun could go wrap up his gift. The next morning, Abhi was up early (as usual) and I went to wake up Arjun. Normally this is a herculean task, but on this day, I just had to remind him that Abhi was waiting for his 'surprise' and he was up in no time. The gift was handed over, the wrapping was ripped open and Abhi was thrilled.

Later Malini asked Abhi what kind of cake he wanted. Chocolate cake, of course (both boys are absolute chocolate fiends - the darker the better). Arjun then asks him what kind of toppings would he like on his cake? Abhi, after some thought, "Blueberries and tomatoes." Needless to say, we skipped the tomatoes, although we did seriously consider options for putting tomatoes on top without causing the cake to go soggy.

Malini picked up Arjun and me just after noon and we all headed to the "New Children's Museum" which is in the downtown area.
It is not a very big place, but there were lots of things for the kids to do. They started with some clay working, and then moved onto some paper crafts, riding manual segues, climbing walls, blowing bubbles, making shadow puppets, and of course pillow fights! We were there for about 3 hours and then headed back home (with a quick stop at REI to get him some sandals, which was our gift).

Tandoori chicken ('bone chicken') and Tofu soup were soon being consumed and after dinner, Prem and family joined us for the cake cutting. Kids were soon running around, fortified by cake and a simple, yet satisfactory birthday celebration came to a close.

A Teachable Moment

Malini found a new PBS program for the kids to watch - "Sid the science kid." As the name suggests, they try to impart some basic science info. What I didn't bargain for (maybe the name of the main character should have alerted me) was the "jokes" that the show included. They run sort of along the following lines:
"How do you stop a fish from smelling?"
"I don't know. How?"
(This is the only acceptable response, you aren't allowed to guess.)
"You hold its nose."
(You have to hold your nose while saying this, which imparts the necessary nasal tone.)

Arjun was quite taken by this new game (maybe something in his genes as well) and Abhi was too, except that he didn't quite grasp the notion of a punch line, specifically that each joke has its own punch line. A couple of days ago I came home to this question:
Arjun: "What did one shirt say to another shirt?"
Me: "I don't know. What?" (I wasn't just playing along, I really had no clue.)
Arjun: "Nothing! Shirts can't talk, silly!"
(Me, grimacing, but trying to be a sport.)

Apparently there was a follow-up:
Arjun: "Why did one shirt chase the other shirt?"
Me: "I don't know. Why?"
Arjun:"Because they were playing tag!" Hillarious stuff.

Abhi certainly thought so, but he was a little confused about the two different jokes and ended up combining the question of the first one ("What did one shirt say to the other shirt?") with the second punch line ("Because they were playing tag."). Not just that, he started applying it to everything around the house. For instance:
Abhi: "Aeta, What did one banana say to the other banana?"
('Aeta' or more correctly, 'Cheta' is Malayalam for elder brother.)
Arjun (playing along): "I don't know. What?"
Abhi (in a triumphant voice): "Because they were playing tag!"

Now, this was sort of ok the first 10-15 times, but after that even Arjun gave up and tried to explain to Abhi that the two jokes were different. ("Abhi, in the first one, they are talking, not playing tag.") When that failed, he attempted an illustration:
Arjun:"See, I'll show you. What did one Sid-the-science-kid say to the other Sid-the-science-kid?"
(He was picking somebody who would actually talk.)
Abhi (being well-versed in the protocol of this joke): "I don't know. What?"
Arjun (talking directly at Abhi): "Hello, Sid, how do you do? What are you doing, Sid?"
Not much of a punch line, but hey, it was supposed to be an example. Instead, Abhi, who by now has lost all context interjected rather emphatically:
"I am not Sid, I am Abhi!"

No Escape

Every parent has likely experienced this - making a throwaway statement to their kid only to to have it come back and get you in the posterior (or "bumbalati" as Arjun & Abhi call it). This is just a mild example of that - it can get much worse.
We started Abhi in a day care last week and he hates it. Mostly he hates the idea of being left alone - he was all gung-ho about the prospect of day care until he realized that his big brother would not be there with him. Then he started campaigning for me to stay in day care with him. In a bid to pacify him, I told him, "Sure, I'll come" and then (very cleverly, I thought) added, "But I have to first ask my boss. If he says ok, then I'll come to your day care." He calmed down and I patted myself on back and left for work. As I reached work, I got a phone call and a very tearful Abhi asks, "What did your boss say?" Hmm... hadn't expected this, but I quickly replied that I had not asked my boss yet. Then realizing that this question would not go away, I added,
"But I don't think I will be able to ask him today."
"Why acha?" Ah, the dreaded "why?"
"Because he is not feeling well."
"Why is he not feeling well?"
"He has a cold."
"He has a cold? How did he get a cold?"
"Um..ah...he went out in the rain."
"He went out in the rain? Why did he go out in the rain?"
"Uh...he had go somewhere." The strain of the conversation was getting to me.
"He had to go somewhere? Did he run?"
"Yes, he ran very fast."
"He ran very fast, acha? Why did he run very fast?"
I had to make this stop.
"Ok Abhi, acha has to go now. bye." And quickly hung up.