A woman's day

"Cant you wake up at least when the morning sun hits your bum?" the husband's voice cuts short my long slumber. Not even the diuretic spoils my sound sleep in the night, though the doctor had recommended that diuretics are best taken in the morning. But the hydrochlorothiazide tablets I take had been making me drowsy during work, so I have just changed the timings from before breakfast to after lunch.
I curse the sun and the room, which faces the east, and make a sign of the cross before going to the bathroom to wash the sleep off my face.
"Where is my tea?" demands the husband, who has been up early and reading. I brew it as carefully as I can - it cant be too strong or too light and the milk has to be just right, or he'll spoil the day for me first thing in the morning. The other men who spoil my mornings are autodrivers who haggle over the fare. Come to think of it, there is no haggling. They just quote double the actual fare. You take it or find your way to the bus stop.
"What is this puttu business in Onam time?" asks the hubby as he comes to leave the tea cup in the kitchen, which is not very often. He finds me applying Cutex (which is what we call nailpolish in Kerala, just as many in Kerala refer to diapers as Pampers) in between making dosas. It is not very often that I remember to do such beauty treatments.
"Today is International Women's Day. So why dont you make the breakfast for a change, while I dry my nails? Maybe your special egg-on-dosa?" I ask the hubby casually.
"I am going for a walk," he announces, and pushes off. So I make just dosa and bull's-eye for each of us.
The kids are up meanwhile. The girl insists on brushing her teeth herself. "Amma anna po (amma go stand there)". I watch from the sidelines. As she prepares to rinse the brush, I rush to make a last-minute cleansing. She carefully washes her hands, her brush and wipes her face with the towel. She is getting pretty meticulous and independent. (And she is as fastidious as Mohanlal in Aham the way she applies dettol liquid soap on her palms and washes them.)
The boy meanwhile just lies on the sofa glancing at the newspapers! He refuses to brush or eat until the father returns from his morning walk.
The big boy and the little boy are soon ready and raring to eat. A minute later, an explosion is heard from the dining room.
"Cant you get something as simple as a bull's eye right? Why do you have to put so much salt into it?"
I swallow my retort. Sometimes silence is prudence. Especially when you are on a salt-restricted diet.
So much for International Women's Day in India. I'd rather celebrate it by going on a shopping spree at Naidu Hall next week. They have a sale on to celebrate the women in us. :)