It happened this Friday – which is the weekend, in this part of the world. 5.30pm, I handed my hubby his evening cuppa and marched upstairs to hang the clothes to dry in the balcony we have outside the master bedroom. As is his habit, sonny followed me. In a fit of fatherly affection, hubby has handed over his cell to sonny, set it to sonny’s nursery rhymes, so now sonny can carry his boom-box wherever he goes. So now ma has to listen to 100 nursery rhymes, non-stop!
Fortunately ma is adept in the art of tuning out and is humming to herself as she hangs the clothes out to dry. Sonny marches into the balcony, sits on the lil edge at the end of the grill and places his boom-box almost at the edge at the grill. A bit of breeze and the cell will sail to the ground – where it will meet a sure death on the concrete floor below it.
So I turned and grabbed the phone and asked sonny to keep it away. Of course, who listens to ma these days. Her favourite word these days is no. So sonny went back to his seat and kept the phone back in its precarious perch.
This time I decided to take some ‘affirmative action’. So I picked up the cell and marched indoors and kept it on the bedside table. Sonny barged in after me, picked up his precious cell.
Meanwhile I went back to my clothes drying. The next thing I know, sonny has walked over to the balcony door and shut it from inside. There! I have been locked out on the balcony of my own house, by my own beloved 2 year. It’s a glass door – so sonny can still see me. Hey, I bang, sonny open the door. But its one of those self-locking ones. Sonny walks up to the door but cant budge it. Ok I yell, go call your father. Sonny looks at me – and walks over to the AC. What was that again? Don’t touch the AC? Ok, on, off, on off, on, off! And now ma is making threatening gestures through the door – ok better leave it on – it sure is hot in here. Yeah go ahead and turn the AC on – after you’ve left your mother to bake on 40 dec C heat.
Again I start banging on the door – hoping to draw hubby’s attention to the situation. Meanwhile, hubby has turned on the TV – got his laptop onto his lap and is busy sipping his tea – completely unaware of the drama that’s being enacted upstairs. I bang the door non-stop until it strikes my dehydrated self that the doors are sound proofed. Hubby wont hear a thing. Fortunately there’s sonny here – maybe get him to call hubby upstairs. Ok baby – go call your father. Sonny thinks this is some game. He kisses the glass on the other side of where I have placed my hand. As I mouth ‘father’ he kisses some more. O drat!!! This luv-shuv is fine – but hey – go call your father.
This entire drama carries on for an hour. Sonny lolls on the floor – next to the door. At least I can see him here – at least he’s not getting into trouble. Oops said that too soon – sonny canters off towards the table lamp. Sonny, I resume banging the door. No!! He sees the intent in my eyes and leaves the lamp alone. He opens the drawers – yeah diapers! Each one is individually flung all over the room. And whats this? O baby wipes. He opens the package and pulls out the entire set of wipes, wipes his face, pulls them onto the floor like a huge train – generally he’s having a blast. While I watch from the other side of the glass door, just watch!
Then I hear the muezzin’s call for prayer. Sunset. It must be 6.45. I’ve spent more than an hour getting roasted on this balcony. Just how much longer will it take for hubby to realize that his wife and beloved son have been missing in action for way too long. I spy my neighbor out for a walk – hey I yell. Hello! But they just march off.
I keep returning to the balcony ledge to see if I can spot someone – who can ring the door and let my hubby know about his wife’s predicament. 2 maintenance workers walk past – hello I yell, hey listen, can you hear me. My brain yells – say ‘help’. But help sounds real desperate, doesn’t it. And I’m not so bad off. After all hubby has to realize his wife hasn’t said a word in the past hour and half and more – and that is rare! Turns out hubby’s not missing anyone. Sonny starts crying now – he’s hungry. Ok maybe hubby will hear him cry and come upstairs. Sonny continues to cry. This time I decide to yell help to whoever walks past the house.
After an agonizing 15 mins of sonny crying and me trying to tell him to go to his father, sonny walks off towards the bedroom door. Finally light on the landing stairs. I hear hubby walking upstairs, picks up sonny, surveys the mess in the bedroom and turns towards the balcony.
Yes, after an hour and 45 mins, I finally got back into the house, to sonny’s delight – who ran circles around me. Phew!! End of drama.
Yes, it could have been worse. What if it were early in the day or worse afternoon? Temperatures in the day touch 45 deg C – even more at times. What if it wasn’t a Friday? Hubby wouldn’t be home – and there would be a stark raving sonny inside the house and a stark raving mom outside. They would have to break the door to get in, if I did manage to get anyone’s attention at all.
Lesson to be learnt. Don’t mess with sonny’s nursery rhymes phone. He is bound to take revenge. Seriously though – have decided to get a cell for myself and keep it 24/7 with me – even while drying clothes. And keep a keener eye on sonny.
Labels: Sonny antics