But there is a deeper meaning to it. Well, craving if I should admit. I generally believe and will stick to my belief that kids are those annoyingly noisy things that happen to you when you are watching a movie in theatre paying 500 bucks or negotiate hard with the brain cells and count the sheep hundred times to sleep as you travel in a train.
So my love for kids is largely not our of the fatherly craving for the kid's giggles, mischeives or the sheer energy. There are different but important reasons.
I live with dad and my wife. They are not like me in daily state of affairs at home.
- They never forget keys or never keep the main door open. I never remember any of these. I either dont lock when I leave or I leave the keys on the lock when I come in. What's wrong in it? After all lock is where the key should be! My wife doesnt seem to agree!
- Cockroaches and Lizards form the greatest components of the food chain. I die seeing cockroaches. So I am okay with lizards at home that kill these cockroaches. My wife dies when she sees lizards. I dont mind (I meant I dont mind if she decides to run away or kill herself). She would call me up (when I am driving) to ask me to do something about the gatekeeper lizard who is on a 2 month hibernation now. Well I cant talk to a lizard. Not definitely over the phone. Not when I am driving a car towards an oncoming policeman. Her negotiation skills are not good (In all our negotiations she wins by sheer force of vocal chord or ability to use kitchen utensils or both). So the lizard is there. She is there. I am expected to come home and plead the lizard to leave while the cockroaches make merry at the expense of my BP.
- I like museums when they have a marked place in the scheme of things. Bedroom is certianly not one of those places to locate a museum. My wife disagrees (This is one situation where my negotiation skills dont work. The other party should also be willing to negotiate. In this case the other party uses vocal force that would relieve even my constipation). Right now my bedroom floor has a vinyl bag (which paati's call as travel bag. The one they bring for weddings. It has a broad cover with a zip which no one closes and you stuff in things the way you want. My wife does that. Clothes that are meant for ironing (we have an iron bag), clothes meant for washing (we have a laundry bag), clothes that for just need plain folding (we have a wardrobe). Will all these, the clothes will still be dripping out on the floor from the ever open vinyl bag. Then there is a tiffin bag (we have kitchen and also a storage area under our bed). There is also a file that has all her original certificates (we have a bank locker and that wardrobe with keys). No we wont use them. No we wont even if ants find refuge near and around. My wife hates ants (Not that anyone has a soft corner for cutey goody ant. But she says she hates ants. Strange.) Well so now you know where the museum is.
- There is this refrigerator (success in spelling it right). I dont like keeping anything on top of it. But If I leave that part un-attended you will see the following on top of the fridge next time you come to my home:
- Plastic bag with nothing
- Plastic bag with soemthing that is unrecognizable
- One goodday biscuit which no one will eat
- Wrist watch that works
- Wrist watch that does not work
- invitation letters from others
- Our own marriage invitation (?!)
- Bit notice asking me to join abacus training so that I can pass with flying colors in twelfth standard. Not that I passed with flying colors when I did. But why stir old memories.
Its for these and such other reasons I need a kid. Afterall you need a company face these funny miseries...lol
