Me: Pratik, you must start eating more food, you are almost 5 years old.
P: Why?
Me: If you eat lots of food, you’ll be big and strong.
P: No, I don’t want to be big and strong.
Me: Why not?
P: If I’m too much strong, i’ll break everything.
*sigh*
As I was trying to juggle two jobs together today morn, i.e reading my new Bill Bryson whilst sipping a piping hot mug of coffee, Pratik gave me an almighty kick (he was trying for a comfortable position on the coach from which he could watch Over The Hedge) and most of said liquid fell onto the book. As I turned to give him the coldest stare of the century, he looked at me which sheepish eyes and slight alarm. Then, quick to establish a purer-than-driven-snow quality, he started: “Well it wasn’t actually my fault, Mummy! If it was my finger that touched the coffee and tipped it out, I would have said, yes it is my fault but it was my toe. My toe, you see, so actually it is not my fault!”
If you figure that out, drop me a line!
“Do not cry – wave at him but do not cry!”, advised my colleagues as I left work early to go to my son’s school Nativity Play.
“Cry? Now why would I do that? I will be beaming from ear to ear, clapping away like mad – but cry? Bah!” retorted I and started making my way schoolward.
Two weeks back, my son came home one day from his infant school, told me that he’s to practice his “lines” and I am to help him memorise it. I was puzzled. “Lines? What lines?” I wondered. Gentle probing brought out the whole story – little P has been chosen as one of the narrators for the Reception class’s rendition of the story of the very first Christmas. Needless to say, I was really pleased. Hell, I felt on top of the world!
My little baby, a narrator, in his very first school play! Aww! We practised his lines diligently, that day and the next and the next and soon enough, P was word perfect. He could say without a moment’s hesitation “Inside the stable the wise men gave Jesus their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.” Even when I felt a pleasant glow at hearing him saying it so perfectly, I couldn’t help wondering how he would do when faced with hundreds of eager parents on D-Day.
After couple of weeks of practise, the Reception class’ Nativity performance was scheduled for the Tuesday. Taking the time off from work, hubby and I reached the school early only to find a mile long queue of identically eager parents patiently waiting to be let inside. At the appointed time and not a moment too soon, the doors opened and we filed inside. On surveying the Hall, every parent could be seen trying to look for the vantage point from where they could see the apple of their eye clearly. For the first time in school history, the front row seats were gone within a trice.
S and I took the middle seats of Row 2 and counted the minutes to 2 pm, when the show would start. Soon enough, the Head Teacher took centre stage and announced the children in. My heart swelled with pride to see my little man come marching in quietly, along with the rest of his friends. Dressed in his narrator outfit, he looked just the same as the other children but of course, we spotted him straightaway, long enough before his searching eyes located us in the audience and lighted up.
One by one, the narrators said their lines, whilst the actors went about enacting one of the best-known religious stories. There were loads of sniffles audible throughout, as mums dabbed their eyes when their babies lisped their lines. One little boy stole the show by singing about 10 decibels louder than the rest of the children and never mind the cue!
Finally, it was Pratik’s turn. He stood up, said his bit, waiting every time for the wise men to give the corresponding gift and then carried on with the rest of his line. He did not even falter when the second wise men chucked the jug containing frankincense with a huge clatter and the audience split its sides. He just carried on with “… and myrrh” and sat down.
Three other children went on to say their piece and sing ‘Away in the manger’. I did not hear a word – I was too busy crying with happiness and drying my tears!
I’ve decided to start a blog for my son – http://pratikisms.blogspot.com — visit and enjoy!
Today morning, whilst taking a break from cooking lunch, I was shocked to find Pratik at the computer, looking at the IWEB website. As I didn’t think his dad has left him on that, I quizzed P. He pointed at our IWEB mousemat and sai, “I saw this and typed I W E B, mummy!” I shoud explain that our mousemat, courtesy the shares website, has its homepage emblazoned across it!
My own budding shares dealer!
Today morning, Pratik woke us up as he was getting quite panicked at the wastage of daytime. When I asked him what the time was (he is rather prone to wake me up well before the crack of dawn on Saturdays), he checked his dad’s mobile phone to be sure. As that contraption didn’t have any numbers on it, he could be heard muttering “the big hand isn’t pointing to any number, the small hand isn’t pointing to any number, then what o’clock is it?” Then he turned to me and went “Mummy, it is none o’clock!”
Needless to say, I got up!
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The other day, my choice of dinner menu came up for discussion. P wanted to eat fish and wondered why I did not cook him fish for dinner. Self, being a staunch vegetarian, decided to utilise this chance in educating him about the feelings of animals and what have you and wean him off meat. So I replied: “I do not like to kill animals and eat, Pratik.” Pat came the reply: “You needn’t kill it mummy, somebody else will kill it for us!”
*sigh*