There is no one who can make you feel more special than your baby. And no one else who can bring you crashing to earth but her either!!
If my Sonu's tiny little world was a stage, I am pretty sure I would play a pivotal role. Pivotal, actually, is a great way to describe it. Perhaps because I spend all my time with her, bathe her, feed her, take her out, hold her, cajole her, play with her (yes I can go on and on, this is good for my ego), she seems to be pretty attached to me. I wouldn't be presumptuous to even say her world revolves around me. So, when we're together, she bullies me and teases me. We have a good time, she and me.
Scene 2. Act 1.
If you introduce another character into this scene, her father for example, she transforms completely. Move aside mom, this is fresh meat! She ignores me and couldn't care less if I were the furniture. She'll try to rebel, make a fuss of eating and blatantly break rules that she follows religiously all day like no entry to the kitchen. All the while keeping track of me from the corner of her eye, making sure her security blanket is around.
But if my ego needs a little boost, all I have to do is extricate myself from the scene. I am, so as to say her safety net. If and when she realises that I am no longer in the vicinity, she loses her bearings. Completely. She bleats for me like a little lamb lost in the woods. And it is the most beautiful sound in the world. I may not be her butter chicken but her chapati I am!!
If my Sonu's tiny little world was a stage, I am pretty sure I would play a pivotal role. Pivotal, actually, is a great way to describe it. Perhaps because I spend all my time with her, bathe her, feed her, take her out, hold her, cajole her, play with her (yes I can go on and on, this is good for my ego), she seems to be pretty attached to me. I wouldn't be presumptuous to even say her world revolves around me. So, when we're together, she bullies me and teases me. We have a good time, she and me.
Scene 2. Act 1.
If you introduce another character into this scene, her father for example, she transforms completely. Move aside mom, this is fresh meat! She ignores me and couldn't care less if I were the furniture. She'll try to rebel, make a fuss of eating and blatantly break rules that she follows religiously all day like no entry to the kitchen. All the while keeping track of me from the corner of her eye, making sure her security blanket is around.
But if my ego needs a little boost, all I have to do is extricate myself from the scene. I am, so as to say her safety net. If and when she realises that I am no longer in the vicinity, she loses her bearings. Completely. She bleats for me like a little lamb lost in the woods. And it is the most beautiful sound in the world. I may not be her butter chicken but her chapati I am!!
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