Growing up– if I ever needed some extra money - say a thousand bucks – I had a one point program. I’d simply walk up to my dad, with a make belief excuse (you know like a science project/ notes photocopying/ guitar classes/ web designing course etc etc) and ask him for an irritating figure of 773 bucks.
This was my golden card. I knew Dad would never bother to come up with the exact amount and would end up rounding it to a neat 1000. Plus, I don’t know why, but I was totally convinced that coming up with a random odd figure such as 743 or 635 – made me sound very genuine. You know, like this is the exact amount I need but if you end up rounding up because you are too lazy to come up with an even (or, should I say odd) 773 – it’s not my fault!
I was a smartass, I tell you.
But my theorem used to take a serious hike- if I were to take money from mom.
For not only would she round up that 773 to 500 but also she would ask me a butt load of questions as to how was I supposed to spend the “prized” amount.
She was smart like that – always two giant steps ahead of me.
Needless to say, Mom was never the popular parent– but dad, on the other hand, was the Rajnikanth of the Nag-household.
Even though it was subconsciously so, I always thought that I was more close to my dad when it came to ranking my parents on the close-o-meter. Okay it was not my favorite activity to rank my parents but such kind of a situation presented itself at times (like when my friends asked me) Although I never said it out loud but deep down- I always knew I was more bent towards Dad. I was kinda convinced, that mom loved me less. Just like my brother was that dad loved him less (but that is a whole other story).
So I’d raise a rebellion at the drop of the hat every time mom asked me to do a household chore – from doing the dishes to cleaning my room.
‘I know you don’t love me,’ used to be my favorite defense to get out of moving my butt.
Lazy-bum that I was, I never wanted to do anything and thankfully enough, I always had dad for rescue. He’d spoil me silly. But again, mom was mom and she caught my bluff every time – and no matter, how good the defense- or the undying support of my dad- I had to clean that darned room.
Now as a grown up myself, when I look back at that time. I just laugh. If only mom had a nickel for every time I accused her for loving my brother more – she’d be a millionaire by now.
‘When you’ll have kids, I’ll ask you then,’ she always used to say, ‘it’s not possible for a mother to favor one child over the other.’
‘Yeah right, you'll see’ I’d roll my eyes and sulk, ‘I’d be a better- more loving mom- you wanna bet?’
‘You don’t have to bet beta –I am convinced you will be,’ her reply was always the same.
Although I didn’t even have to be a mother – or a wife- to realize that how fcuking stupid I was back then (not that much has changed in the stupidity department- I am still the HOD there- hell, if possible, I may be even more stupider now- but at least now I don’t take ten years to realize it).
Now that I am working myself, I have a hard-hard time just getting up, let alone cooking that meal and being ready on time for work. It’s when I end up skipping my breakfast four days in a row I realize what a super efficient juggler mom is. Not only did she work but she also took care of us – me, my brother, and my father – without even raising a sweat.
And here I am, the miss half ass lawyer who can’t even take care of her own self – let alone others and I had the nerve to challenge her. So here is this post mom – to tell you that even though you never endorse betting or wagering of any kind - you still beat me hands down -and you are, indeed, the best.
And thank you sooooo much that you were a little rough around the edges, for if not for that – I would have ended up doing a lot worse.