The siblings in the house have been rambunctious lately. And tonight, there was above normal bickering. First, it was the whipped cream. “Look, he is pretending not to hear me. I asked him to put the whipped cream away. I set it on the table before dinner, so it’s his turn to put it back.” “I didn’t hear you, okay? Don’t blame me.” “How can you not hear me, you were right here” “I did not hear you because I did not hear you” “Now you are arguing for the sake of arguing.”
Just as I was about to zone out of this delightful conversation, my gaze rested on the overflowing sink. An inspiration struck. Time for some character building exercise.
“Enough already you two. Hari, you will rinse the dishes tonight and Ram, you will load them in the dishwasher,” I gave stern instructions. The siblings muttered under their breath and agreed on something for the first time for the whole evening. “Let’s do what amma says before she gets ticked off.” Alright, I am the villain in the story.
“Cleaning up dishes is disgusting. I feel like vomiting.” said the older one as he scrubbed the stainless steel bowl with oatmeal smeared on it, with an expression that looked like he had just encountered a roadkill. “How many cups of tea do you guys drink? Can you please just drink one cup of tea from tomorrow?” “And all this cheese is so hard to clean. Why don’t we just eat things that are easy to compost and don’t need cleaning?” “And maybe we should start eating on a banana leaf so we will have fewer plates to clean.” “Maybe it is a good idea to get a dishwasher that will do the cleaning by itself rather than us having to clean for it.”
If only I didn’t have to pretend to be the responsible adult in the kitchen, I would have rolled on the floor laughing. Honestly, who needs Netflix and Hulu when there is comic relief playing right in your kitchen.
Knowing that he got the lesser unpleasant task, the younger one made no comment and tried to stay unnoticed, randomly loading one spoon after the other in the rack. I reminded him that it will be his turn to clean the dishes the next day. He paused, shut his eyes tight in a vain attempt to summon tears on demand.
“Okay guys, I hope you all learnt something valuable today,” I asked the boys.
“Yes, we know what it is to be appa and cleaning all the gross stuff,” came the response without skipping a beat.
What? Not only am I the villain in the story, appa gets to be the hero?
Ah well, the dishwasher was loaded and the rest of the evening was spent in pin drop silence. I can live with being the villain in the story.