A couple of days ago was my budday. I turned thirty five. Its a big number. I know. My aunts exclaimed appropriately and said, 'What? You?' since of course I am still about five as far as they realise. I mention my age to them every year on my birthday, and on other occasions as possible. But they are cool. I love them. They are all Dahlias and not Agathas. Their husbands would even agree with me on that, I think.
My mum made me some extra special badam-kaju burfi. I had to help her out by moving the ladle around since she cannot do that once it starts becoming solidified. I was horrified at how much ghee went into the creation. But the taste was good in the end. I might have eaten too much. The monster and her father ate one piece each.
I took a nap, in my own honour. A pre-lunch nap. The best kind. (Sorry, mim, I know this will make you very jealous, just happened to click that day). A pre-lunch nap is great because you wake up and still there is half a day left, as opposed to an afternoon nap where you get the feeling that you have wasted the whole day away since so little of it is left. I usually don't take afternoon naps, especially now that the monster has more or less stopped doing that. Enough of naps now.
I did wear a new dress as prescribed. Some Fab India creation that I bought two months ago and saved for a rainy day. I hate wearing new clothes usually. I love the well worn blue shirts I wear on a regular basis. Some of them are as much as fifteen years old. But serviceable still. I wear one of them with a safety pin to augment the support of the button near the tummy. Just in case. Somehow I seem to run out of pants more often than I run out of shirts and blouses. Enough of my clothes now.
The monster was extra high maintenance the whole day. I was feeling quite disgusted with humanity in general and fussy children in particular. But I am glad to say that I did not disown her entirely. I took her shopping (it was a day off for me, for some jayanti type reasons), she seems to have suddenly grown. Nothing fits. Since she is quite picky and fussy and has opposite tastes from us, I have not bought her clothes in a while. I mean of course thats not true, but anyway nothing appropriate is usually to be found in her cupboard, so I decided to bite the bullet and go shopping (shudder, horrid thing that). She dressed herself in a blue pant and a tshirt that says "Munna Jeans." Usually she does not touch that tshirt ever since someone made fun of it (I do admit to two things: (a) bought from the boy's section and (b) does look funny).
We bought (a slice of) cake. Chocolate of course (is there any other kind?). Still have some left over. Yumm. Must. Eat. It. I am suddenly completely craving sweet things. I usually don't indulge (much). Either fried foods or sweet things. But I found myself dreaming of Basundi. Mum reminded me that she made me Basundi last year for my birthday. Okay, so, don't mean to be rude to elders, but how is that reminder useful to me? I ask you.
* No balloons (bored to blow them up)
* No gifts (thank heavens! overflowing home)
* New dress (Fab India)
* Hateful shopping (for monster's clothes. Ugh).
* Nice nap (Woohoo!)
* Badam-Kaju Burfi treat (yes!)
* No Basundi (boo)
Its official now. I am a middle aged (Ha!) much married (12 yrs & counting) professional (Ha Ha!) mommy of one (& What a monstrous one!)) who wears a safety pin in her blue shirt. And to the person who asked me last week if I was wearing bifocals: soon my dear, very soon.