Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Under Discussion

Me: Stop whining for God's sake and don't talk to me for the next 10 minutes.
HRH: What's the point of having a child if you don't want to talk to him?

-----

HRH (talking about his little cousin): She liked me and Baba..but Ammi was deleted from her thoughts

-----

HRH: Are you patient like a tiger?
Khala: Are tigers patient?
HRH: Yes...when they are waiting to pounce.

-----

Khala: She looks like Cher
HRH: Sher who? Sher Khan?

-----

Sulking HRH being force-fed lunch by his khala -
HRH: You are a Nazi.

-----

HRH: I have a headache
Me (worried): Seriously?
HRH: No haha just tricking you
Me: I wish you wouldn't do that
HRH: You are a nervous wreck.

-----

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

HRH on Rabies, Tennis, School & More

Me: Behave yourself or I won't bring you here again
HRH: I know you are just threatening me....as usual.

------

HRH: I made potato wedgies in cooking class today.

------

HRH (pretending to choke): I have rubies!
Me: Rubies? U know those are gems right?
HRH: Oh what's that thing like mad cow disease you get from a dog bite?
Me: Rabies

------

HRH: Do u want to run a mile, jump a stile or eat a country pancake?
Me: Eat a country pancake I guess
HRH: Hahaha u want to eat a cow pat!

[Courtesy: Horrid Henry series by Francesca Simon]

------
During one of the French Open 2011 matches -

HRH: Who's winning?
Me: Rafa but Murray playing well too..Who do you want to win, Nadal or Murray?
HRH: Murray
Me: Why not Nadal?
HRH: If Federer isn't playing then I want Murray to win..but I'm on Fed's side.

------

HRH: What's soyool?
Me: Huh? That's not a word
HRH: S-O-U-L
Me: Soul? That means spirit
HRH: Don't crush my soul

------

HRH: I had my Islamiyat assessment today
Me: How did it go?
HRH: It was good. I got an A or a B or a C.

------

HRH: Today in computer class we learned to use Facebook..
Me: WHAT?!
HRH: Haha just kidding
Me: Thank God..do you know what Facebook is?
HRH: Its for uploading pictures

------

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Don't

Don't yell.
Don't kick.
Don't whine.
Don't argue.
Don't punch.
Don't scream.
Don't do that.
Don't be rude.
Don't interrupt.
Don't stop chewing.
Don't make a sound.
Don't be a dinosaur.
Don't be so annoying.
Don't jump on the bed.
Don't head-butt anyone.
Don't make me say it again.
Don't lie down while eating.
Don't sit so close to the TV.
Don't pretend to have rabies.
Don't practice kung fu on her.
Don't make me come over there.
Don't talk with your mouth full.
Don't do flying jumps off the chair.
Don't make a fuss about your homework.
Don't do karate moves while having dinner.
Don't keep saying 'teapot' over and over again.
Don't say you have nits (especially when you don't).

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Vaccination Wackiness

There was a time when getting an injection caused no fear in HRH. Vaccination time was no big deal. Then HRH hit the age of about 4 and there was a sudden spike in the irrational fear of sharp needles.

For the past year and more, a trip to the paediatrician involves first being quizzed about what exactly will happen when you get there. First there is the 20 questions play (out of which 10 are a repetition of "Will I get a shot?", "Are you sure I won't get a shot?", "PROMISE me I won't get a shot!" and more along those lines). Initially we used to lie and say no you won't be getting an injection, even when HRH would be. That plan backfired though as it made even non-vaccination visits to the doctor, a torture.

Adopting the honesty-is-the-best-policy plan next, we started telling HRH the truth about what the doctor would be doing when we went for a visit. Unfortunately when it's time for a vaccination and HRH has been informed of the impending trip, a couple of hours before the whining begins.

"How much will it hurt?"

"How big will the needle be?" (Needle size options are demonstrated by HRH with hands being held apart between 1 to 3 feet)

"Show me how much it will hurt?" (With pleasure, I show him how much it will hurt with light pinches...really very light...)

"How long will it take to give the injection?" (Counting to 5 seconds is done to show him how long it will take, at the most. This leads to objections about how slowly I counted to 5 and to count faster).

"Where will the doctor put the needle? I want it on my arm!" (An argument ensues about how the doctor knows best and it will either be on the thigh or the bottom).

Repeat above line of questioning, for the entire time from HRH being informed of forthcoming shot to waiting for an hour or more in the doctor's waiting room to actually entering the doctor's room. Then there is a minute of crying while the injection is brought in and prepared. When the jab is over and done with within seconds, there is some sniffling and a "I was kind of brave right?"

Today's post Hepatitis B booster injection conversation went as follows:

Me: See you made a fuss over nothing
HRH: No I didn't. It hurt like a dog bite.
Me: No it didn't. Dogs have lots of sharp teeth.
HRH: It was like mad cow disease.
Me: You don't even know what mad cow disease is.
HRH: Ok then it was like a raptor's claw scratch.

With another injection scheduled in the next week or so, promises of bravery have been extracted from HRH. However, on the day itself I will be expecting the usual valour-less vaccine routine.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Summer of Cynicism

I hate the summer.
I hate the heat.
I hate the load-shedding.
I hate that every day we have to listen to bad news ranging from bomb blasts to journalists being tortured to death for daring to reveal the truth.
I hate the bubbles we are all being forced to live in.
I hate dreading the moment when mine will pop.
I hate that nothing will change here, not for as far as I can foresee anyway.
I hate that I really believe that now.