Our daughter started babbling when she was closing in on six months and her first coherent word was DADA and all of us were swift to derive its meaning. And the Indian parents that we are, we went “What a smart kid! By the age of ONE she will be reciting the String Theory at the back of her hand”… Little did we realise that the back of her hand was always in her mouth.
After 40 minutes, we finally reached the counter, it was like crossing the finish line after an exhausting marathon. We were crabby, tired and ready to drop but Baby Z was galavanting like a stoned hippie radiating energy!
It was quite amusing to travel with a child, never correctly predicting how she’ll react to a new environment, you were always left guessing what will happen next.
…which I was trying very hard to win but in the end there was always something left wanting. I argued back that “I work so hard for this family blah blah blah” but after a point I come to realize that I sound like a quintessential asshole
Don’t get me wrong, she is loved by all of us, but by the end of it we are Indians and getting a household member married off is our undeniable right.
