So I'm at Madras at last. Been here since Sunday. Hit town, drove straight to the club where Rahul rolled, literally rolled in dirt. The Gymkhana club has a nice little play area with swings and teeter-totters his size, such a rarity. Luckily, we'd both snatched an hour's sleep in the aircraft.
Lazed around at home rest of day, guests popped in, Neri with parents and grandparents. She and Rahul squabbled fiercely, for all that she's two years older. Ah well.
Monday night we ate at Cream Central. Great food, really good food and value for money, but I didn't like the manager's behaviour. On the other hand, the servers were all very nice. I recommend their preset meal, the alu parathas and the pasta on pasta thing I had.
Last night we ate at home, after an hour or so at Fountain Plaza. I really have to get to know this area. Right now all I know is the Nungambakkam High Road bit, but I would like to know Egmore better, for one thing.
Today was the parents' anniversary, and I think they had a nice one. We had a fantastic dinner at Bella Ciao, opp Landmark on Nungambakkam High Road. The pasta was simply superb, esp the fettucine with brocolli and cheese. The sheer butteriness of the dish was awesome. The tuna thing was also good (but not as good) and the gnocci with tomato and basil very yummy. The profiteroles were a bit disappointing, but hey, they're the ones who set the standards. The place was empty, so The Bhablet had a grand old time running around and generally making a nuisance of himself.
Lost my temper with the brat this afternoon and got a quiet talking to from the mother. Well-deserved, I'll admit. She -- they -- insist that I make allowances for the adjustments the boy makes, in being away from his beloved father, in adjusting to routines in a new household. Maybe they are right. Maybe it's tough for a high maintenance woman to handle a higher maintenance child. Maybe, I don't know, maybe I need to smack myself instead of him. He does so much, I keep expecting more. And my mother keeps telling me to slow down.
Went swimming today, but it wasn't a success just Rahul and me. For the first time in a very long time, he decided he was scared of the water. I guess it's easier with lots of people, not to mention Dadda in the pool.
I've written before about Rahul's attachment to his grandfathers. It's so marked now. He likes his grandmothers, loves them even, but his relationship with his grandfathers (and theirs with him) are on a different plane altogether. It's like some crazy male bonding that they do, some weird unspoken understanding that they have, that allows my father and father in law to confidently say, "Oh he'd never do that." and to actually not have the brat do whatever it is that he'd have done if it had been me sounding so cocky.
There's such trust, such faith he shows in his grandfathers, it makes me miss Dadu. And then I know why I stay away from my own home and husband for four long weeks, why I couldn't carry the grudges against V's parents for ever -- you cannot deny your child the security, the love that you recognise only too well. You cannot deny him what you gloried in, in your own time. At least, I can't.