On Being Back Home

There is nothing as awesome as coming back home after a long week of travel, sleeping in your own bed (didn’t matter the boys pushed me to the very edge of the bed), waking up in the morning (yep, Kumar let me sleep in and handled the drop offs), making a cup of coffee, enjoying it, albeit hurriedly, and getting ready to tackle the rest of the day.

Happy Friday.

Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. – Robert Montgomery

On a Dog’s Life

Cambridge Dictionary: a dog’s life: a very unhappy and unpleasant life

No meetings. No deadlines.
No cooking. No carpool duty.
No worries about the past.
No plans for the future.
Not a care in the world.
Just NOW.
In the moment.

When Rainbow feels like it, she basks in the warm sun.

We got it all wrong. Perhaps is time to update the dictionary.
A well cared for dog’s life: a very happy and pleasant life

On Cutting Onions

Kumar and the boys are usually the vegetable cutters in the family.
They help chop. I help cook.

I rushed home after picking up boys and gave some snacks to fend of their hunger.

Since my vegetable cutter was delayed at work, I started madly chopping the onions in a rush to get dinner started.

I hate chopping onions.
I was cursing the onions as the tears started pouring down my eyes.

The boys glanced at each other and shook their head.

I did my death stare and quipped – “Quit staring at me. Can y’all focus and study?

They both quietly walked to where my sun glasses were.
They brought it to me, placed it on my face and said – “Hope this prevents those tears.
Then, they walked away quietly after clicking a picture as I continued to madly chop the freakin’ onions.

When the boys were young, I often sang one of my favorite Bharathiyar’s song to them.
un kannil neer vazhindhaal, en nenjil udhiram kottudhadi
(Meaning: When I see tears trickling down your eyes, blood pours out of my heart)

Later in the evening, the boys joked about their own version of the song:
un kannil neer vazhindhaal, naan cooling glass koddupen
(Meaning: When I see tears trickling down your eyes, I will bring sun glasses to you)

I love how the boys are always looking out for me. What more does a gal need?

On Living in a Household with 3 Boys

Grrrr.
I swear.
One more time.
Just one more time they do this…I am going to have the boys taken out.

If you have a working prototype for toilet paper snapper (i.e., mouse trap like gadget for snapping hands of those that leave the toilet roll ON the handle), I’ll fund it.

On the Spice of Life – The Story of Paruppu Podi Present

{Paruppu podi, paruppu means dhal and podi means powder in Tamil. It is also called Spiced Dhal Powder.}

I would drive home from work after a long day and start cooking. Since I didn’t want the boys to feel the void, I would go the extra mile. I would lay out an elaborate spread on the dining table.

They would show up at the table day after day and asked one question – “Where is the paruppu podi?

I seethed inside….but, would just smiled, walk over to the pantry and bring out the paruppu podi box.

How could I blame the boys for looking past my elaborate spread?

They had grown up with both sets of grandparents pampering them in every away possible… including food.Before the grandparents returned to India after their frequent trips to the US, they would have made tons of paruppu podi and store them in the pantry. It was what you call “risk management” or “contingency plan” or “Plan B”. You get that, right? To save the boys from my “cooking” and ensure they are fed well….at least with paruppu podi.

So, that is what happened for over a decade.
Grandparents arrive.
Grandparents pamper.
Grandparents feed.
Grandparents make tons of paruppu podi and store them in the pantry.
Grandparents return.

I go to work.
Come back.
Cook.
Serve.
And the boys didn’t give a rat’s a** about my serving.
They wanted the freakin’ paruppu podi that their grandparents had made.

I was narrating this story to my neighbor Gita.

Guess what happened a week later?

When Gita’s mom came to visit Austin, she brought over a box of yummy paruppu podi for the boys.

I am so thankful for the bonds that bind us together…..because, such is the spice of life.