Drafted on Jan. 24
This evening saw our children inflicted with attitude problems. “Not dhalia upma again. I was hoping it would be something I like. I wish I were not so hungry,” sulked the seven year old at dinner time. “I will not sit on my high chair and eat,” implied the fifteen month old as he persevered to free himself from the high chair. Given the direction in which things were headed, one would have thought the evening was a disaster waiting to happen, right? Not really! How come? Well, let’s just say that I wielded the spoon. Hari is less tolerant to his least favorite foods when I spoon feed him. I give in once in a while, after emphasising it as an exception, to achieve the grand goal of getting him to eat what’s offered. And how about Ram? All it took was, “Do you want to sit here next to me and eat just like anna?”, and the child happily perched himself on my lap instead of sauntering around the house with a mouthful of food. So my friends that’s the story of how the evening was tackled – one spoon at a time!
The evening did remind me of my childhood days when my mom or my grandmom would be seated with a plate laden with rasam rice and us kids swarming around amma or patti for our morsel. I was never a big fan of “kaila podara” routine. The dripping of the rasam rice would irk me, and having to wait for my turn when my stomach was rumbling with ravishing hunger was not exactly something I looked forward to. But then it had its share of perks. No rinsing of plates. No need to pitch in with after meal chores. Plus, we were entertained with stories and gossip. And if we got lucky, we had the privilege of being served in the balcony or terrace under the starlit sky with the summer breeze caressing us.
And like how Enkay wondered in one of her posts, I tried to step in to my mom’s and grand mom’s shoes – what could have been their reasons? did they use it as an opportunity to sneak in left over food? some economies of scale being leveraged in the process? was it less work? or may be, just may be, they simply enjoyed the act of feeding tiny mouths, and seeing little bellies inflate like a balloon following a meal. A smile spreading on their face knowing that now that the kids are well fed, all is well with the world. Just like I secretly did that evening.