At this point, there is one more day to go, for the midterm break to end. And last Saturday something happened that, if my husband hasn’t found it at the correct time, my rebellious four-year-old Ms. Unniyarcha, would have drunk a whole bottle of perfume.
I have told earlier that as part of fight-management, and mainly due to the bullying of Unniyarcha over my elder one who is a Mother Theresa, we use British tactics. Yes – “divide and rule”. Thus, Ms. Mother Theresa was downstairs, while I was cooking so that I can have an eye on her.
Unfortunately, Unniyaracha was upstairs, under the not-so-brilliant-eyes of her dad. She considers her dad, her playmate, not as a parent. According to her only monster-mommy is her only parent.
So, after cooking lunch, I came upstairs and found our Ms was resting alone in bed, doing nothing.
*** Lesson: For toddlers doing nothing means there is danger***
But… the whole room smelt as if a perfume bottle has broken. I scanned everywhere. No bottle pieces. And then I saw. The small step stool dragged to my dressing table. Being addicted to perfume, I had various brands including the much costly Versace on top of it.
My heart skipped minimum five beats. “oh, my goodness, what did she do with it?” I am sure she took it. It is not broke because I can’t see any evidence. So…
I decided to have face-to-face questioning with the culprit.
“Did you take the perfume?”
“I know you took it, just tell me what you did with it.”
“Did you throw it away?”
**** only yesterday I found my sweater in the kitchen bin****
I brought her to the dressing table. Three bottles are there. I have no clue which one she took.
“Did u take this?” ** I pointed to my Roberto Cavalli **
“Did you take this?” *** At least that’s a copy perfume. ***
I didn’t believe her, how can I?
Her previous history doesn’t mention even a single instance of truth told by her, during such damaging situations.
I asked again, pointing to MY Roberto,
“Are you sure you didn’t take this?”
“NO- err” *** this time she is also in doubt***
Then her dad came from the next room and showed me the “Christina Aguilera “without its top cap.
When he remembered that he was supposed to watch this Unniyarcha, he came to the room to find out, our Missy standing on the step stool, with my ‘Christina Aguilera’ in her hand. As she couldn’t spray, she bit off the top portion of the bottle, leaving it with a thin white tube popping up.
I don’t know if she drank it or not. Anyway, she was smelling different perfumes from head to toe. I smelled her mouth. It also smells perfume. Maybe she drank, maybe she was about to drink. Maybe she was thinking about whether to drink or not? I don’t know.
I tried not to panic. I know a panicky mom can cause the most damage to her child. Seeing her, I realised that even if she drank, it wasn’t too much. She looks ok. And perfume is alcohol, in fact, ethanol and methanol combined.
We both looked at her for some time for any symptoms- drowsy, tired, inactive – no nothing is there.
Now there is no point in giving a half an hour lecture or five minutes timeout to her to make her understand about the consequences, to a confused four-year-old. She is already surprised that why we look so agitated at her. I should really be blaming the parent who was supposed to look after Unniyarcha.
Anyway, by God’s grace, nothing happened, and we concluded that she didn’t drink perfume.
Now, I understood why all the liquid medicines, cleaning liquids, washing liquids all have child-proof caps, here.
Now there is Sunday left.
Now, due to the dangerous nerve-wracking experience in Saturday, daddy dear took them both to an indoor play centre, nearby – ‘Jump 4 joy’. As the name suggests it is made to make the kids release their bundle of energy by jumping in trampolines, slides, falling in ball pit, riding toy cars etc. Two hours there and they will be so tired that, once back, after food or maybe even during food, they will start sleeping.
Now that was most kids, but not my Unniyarcha. She will throw tantrums, scream, and finally (physically)fight with her dad when it is time to go home. So every trip back from Jump 4 Joy is accompanied with:
1. Annu’s howling /crying.
2. Her daddy warning her that he will NEVER take her there again.
3. My composed elder girl, giving me a nonstop account of what all naughty and unacceptable things that Annu did there.
At least Ms Theresa must prove us, now and again that she is the one and only well-behaved daughter we have.
The (not so) surprising thing is that if I am going with them, there will be no tantrums, no fights, no screams and my Unniyarcha will be such a well behaved girl.
Now today I had some work to do and to get some peace time, I did shopping and cooking, yesterday itself. As I told earlier the elder doesn’t eat any fruits or vegetables. It is either rice and fish fry, or ham sandwich. But thankfully younger eats rice mixed with everything. I just mix everything in a bowl, make small rice balls and give it to her. (Back home, everyone says I shouldn’t make rice-balls as it’s a part of ‘after-death’ ceremony).
I continued to do so because I was fed like that by mom while young and nothing happened. I didn’t want to waste time running behind her, too.
So today we (Unniyarcha and me) had our lunch and I returned to work. Eventually, she got bored and went down to her dad. He was asleep in the couch.
Now this girl walks, moves like a cat (unless she is angry). So, after five minutes I heard someone slowly opening the door. Your ears must be extra sensitive if you need to sense her presence.
“Do you know what is inside this?” *** Unniyarcha in a sing-song voice ***
I looked her with blank face. *** Oh! Now what!***
“I caught a fish “
She opened a blue sock of hers, put her hand inside and took a piece of fried fish.
Seeing my facial expression change from blank to scary, she sensed that something was wrong. I just couldn’t say anything. I grabbed her hand went down and faced her daddy.
“Did you see this?”
“Your daughter caught a piece of fried fish in her socks “
*** he just hugged her ***
Suddenly I wanted to check the kitchen. From where did have she taken the fish? Aadu finished lunch. Rest of the fish fry is still in our deep fryer, getting the oil drained. Red lights started flashing in my head. “Danger”. I ran towards the fryer.
As expected, I could find all the evidence from where she caught the fried fish, in her socks. The purple step stool was just below the kitchen counter-top, on which the fryer was there with hot oil. The crumbs and pieces of fish was all over the counter top and floor.
By God’s grace she didn’t knock down the fryer along with oil and fish. Now people will ask “How could you place the fryer so carelessly on counter top?” But believe me, there are four step stools in this house.
I use them to reach the top of kitchen cabinet. Seeing me do this, they use them to get things, which their height doesn’t permit.
First, it was perfume, now it is fish in the fryer.
Still we all survive…