Growing up is fun, Amma!

Today my son has done something which I did while I was in 12th grade.

16 years back, when I was in 12th grade I got my first much awaited chance to go for my bestie’s birthday party directly from school. It was a big thing during those days. My friend and I had to beg, cry and create a huge drama to let my parents give the permission to go directly to her house after school for her birthday. Atlast my parents agreed when my friend said that she will call off her party if I do not come. Aaah! And what a party it was. It was scandalizing though we did nothing close to a scandal, but the mazza of it was just unmentionable.

And then there comes my 7 year old with a birthday party invitation last Friday. It was his best friend’s birthday invitation. I looked at the address and said, “But this is far from our home. I think you will have to skip it. It is a weekday too. By the time you and I reach back home after school, it will get late.”

The immediate (read…well planned) response was:
“That’s ok. Agastya told me that I can go with him. His mother (who happens to be their Maths teacher too) will take me from school to their home by car. Can Papa pick me up by 7pm? Is Agastya’s house on his way back home.”

I was left dumbstruck by all the planning the boys had done. But he had a point. M could very well come by that way and pick him up. I called up his teacher and she said she would be more than happy to work this out. M also was cool about it. Well, then who am I to be the spoil-sport?

That’s it. Last night, A and I spent ten minutes together where I told him clear instructions about what he should do and shouldn't do. After all the serious talk, my big grown up 7 year old says, “But I have confusion.” I was all ears. What was that, I asked.

“Once I am at his house, what should call his mother? Aunty or Maam?”

That’s when I reminded myself that after all he is just a 7 year old, trying to spread his wings, trying to fly. In the process he might act cool and all, but at the end there are still confusions like that!

Today morning he left with his school bag and an extra bag with a change of clothes and a gift in tow. When I spoke to him couple of hours back he sounded pretty fine and excited. And he says, “Oops, Amma! I forgot to wash my hands. You had told me right? I will do it right away ok.”


“Ok Shona.” I said and smiled. 

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