Monday, August 21, 2006

Rainy Days Turn My Mind to Worry

Today’s been one of my ‘tired’ days so far. It’s been like that quite a lot this month. Some days I feel just fine and full of beans; others all I want to do is sleep. I somehow stay awake till V leaves for work, and then I sleep through most of the day. I’ve slept through lunch-times even, and if that seems unimportant, I should mention that the baby’s very strict about being fed when it’s hungry. (It kicks me awake, and no, that's not cute. It's actually quite painful.) It was named Fidgety Fudge as a working title a few months ago, and since it does kick me all the time, the name stuck. Ma shortens it to Fidgety, which is what I’ll use here. Or F.

It was a full weekend. My mashi and her family are in town, and on Saturday we went out shopping with them. I saw Persepolis I and II in Landmark, but had already allotted my birthday money elsewhere. Oh well, another year. My eight yr-old Cousin E tried to buy a Pink Floyd (audio) CD but was persuaded by her father not to (with ‘love and affection’, I understand). I told Mashi, let her buy, she wouldn’t understand what the songs are all about, and anyway, better for the family if she gets over the Floyd phase before she even hits her teens. Mashi said that was all very well, but it would be the entire family who’d have to listen to the album now, if it’s bought. Cousin E isn’t so much precocious as rather cute. She has no idea what Pink Floyd is, anyway.

Yesterday we took her and her elder brother (Cousin B) go-karting, but the tracks were closed. Must be all this rain. So we decided to drive up to the Second Howrah Bridge. We eventually found it, and then promptly got confused and nearly went back on it after we’d got off. By and by we made our way out of the area and went looking for a ferry. But since the river was so choppy they weren’t running. We comforted ourselves with French fries and sundaes at Scoop (on the riverside) instead. French fries are very comforting things in general, unless they are the bland, plastic variety you get at burger joints.

Sometimes I worry, what if F grows up to be a teetotalling, vegan, classical music purist biography reader? I mean, I like classical music myself, but what if he/she/oh what the hell, it decides that the Beatles are shite? Or, horrors, that M’n’Bs aren’t literature? What if F demands eggless cakes and abominations like that? I comfort myself by saying that V and I couldn’t end up with a child like that, even if we wanted to… but what if we do?

N.B. 1. Mashi is my mum's kid sister.
2. Writing this post, it emerged that neither V nor I am quite sure just how to spell Hooghly. Is there even a definitive spelling or does everybody just write whatever they can and hope for the best?
3. There are two volumes of Persepolis, but I only linked to a review for the first one because I'm really rather tired and F's kicking up a fuss about not having been served her/his/its evening snack yet.


Grafxgurl said...

ah my gad i cant beleive i missed your previous post~!!!WHEN are you due?

you spelt hooghly right.

my husband is a classicalmusicazoid....i am 100% sure my kids will end up being cello or double bass players ...if theyre girls they will end up like BOND.

all the sass with the class ;)

indianpeppone said...

U r back????? looks like I have a lot of reading up to do....

Sue said...

Grafx - F's due anytime around Puja. I like the Bond line.

Peppone - Don't worry, haven't written much. :-)

WishfulThinker said...'s are literature? Erm...Okaayyyy...