Tuesday, September 06, 2005


I have cool parents, which should have been nice, except they continue to be the bane of my existence. They are totally irresponsible, bohemian, do not believe my “Windmills of the Gods” theories (which to me make sense, I’m a typical Virgo, I give and take in equal measures) and react to it with,

Father: “What illiterate tosh! Is this why I paid for your college and postgrad tuition so that the fruit of my loins would have a totally unscientific temperament? Do you seriously expect me to listen to your baseless theories? Bah! What would your professors say?”

Mother: “That is so vengeful! How did you get this way? Beta, there is no God, see, I cheat on him all the time and He can’t even catch me out, what a fool!”

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. I was thinking aloud one day to my mother. The amount of money that goes from my pockets into Reliance’s deep ones is not funny. And I get attitude from their crappy customer service. Scum! Blackguards! Bastards! But, I have digressed again. I was telling mom how much I envied folks with kids and was seriously contemplating adoption or something. Mom encouraged me and appreciated my noble thoughts. I should have smelt a rat at that. Yesterday, out of the blue, Mom asks me, “So, when is your kid coming home? What size clothes should I start knitting/ making?” I spluttered and croaked, “What kid?” Mom says, “Your kid, the one you are adopting, what age is it going to be? 1, 2 or older? I can’t wait to tell everyone my daughter’s latest noble deeds and I can’t wait to teach the kid to call you dummy or Muddy! Mwahahaha!”

I can’t believe this! My own mother? With a totally juvenile and asinine sense of humour? Is this my own flesh and blood even?


At 9:54 AM, Blogger Heretic said...

hehehe, real cool, these parents of yours. Dummy or Muddy, hahaha, that would keep you seething for a while, no? Welcome to the club: my dad asks me to get my boyfriend over. And then grins when I start looking really pissed off. The he goes and says "Heck, you can't snare a gal, so wondered if you could at least snare a guy!" Damn. That's what you get for having smart parents.

Hey, just couldn't help leaving a comment. :-) Sorry to intrude.

At 6:31 PM, Blogger Megha said...

When I was all of 14 years old, I went up to my mom to ask her why my sis and I were 8 years apart in age (I'm the younger one) -

Me: So mom, was I an accident? *snigger snigger*
Mom: No, an afterthought.

God save us from smart parents.

Wonderful blog you have here. Stumbled by from JAP's space. Will be sure to drop in again. Cheers!

At 12:53 AM, Blogger J. Alfred Prufrock said...

Umm yeah, even my normally staid father has his moments. When we were holding out against major pressure to make babies ("Arre you've been married for nearly TEN YEARS now, think of your parents!" types), he cleared his throat and asked whether we were entirely clear about the production process.

I was speechless.


At 4:29 AM, Blogger teleute said...

parents... gah.
we should have brought then up better, i tell you.


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