We had created an email account for Hari a few years back but never really used it. Now that he reads and writes, we have started using it as a medium to keep him posted on things pertaining to him. He seems to be getting a flavor for it. His first few emails were around, “Amma, you are the best mom in the whole world”, then he used emails to coax me into doing things, “Amma, do you think we could go to park today, please, pretty please?”. Sometimes he would reply with maturity, “Amma, thank you for your encouragement. I hope to do good”.
I love love getting these emails with so many different flavors. The formal tone of the emails laced with stretching spelling, typical for a seven year old, is another reminder to me that although he is so matured and grown up on the outside, deep down he is still a little child. The reserve of innocence may be depleting but it’s still there.
“Amma, do you want to know my email password”, asked a rather excited Hari. “Only if you want to share it with me”, I replied pretending not to know what it is. He whispered the password and told me to keep it as a secret. “Why should it be a secret Hari”, I asked to pick his brain. “Because if you say it loudly some robber might hear it and break your computer”. Ha, password security through the eyes of a first grader.
“Why does Yuna keep writing to me always amma”, asked a rather puzzled Hari as he was checking his email account to reply to folks that had wished him for his b’day. The question cracked me up as I explained to him, “Hari, remember the last time we talked about it? Like how we have strangers in real world, we have strangers that write to our email ids. They are called spammers. Like how you are not suppose to talk to strangers unnecessarily, you should not open emails from someone you do not know.” Yuna was so real to him. Someone who doesn’t know him would know his email id and would actually write to him was so unfathomable to Hari. I think he gets it, sort of. In his words, “I am going to call Yuna as Junk Girl from now on mama.”