Life - stories and games - that's all it is.

I have been out of the blog loop for a while. Partly because after a long time, I have started sitting downstairs either reading the newspaper or magazines or watching TV which I had not done in a very very long time. B and I used to be "Law and Order" junkies but it has been a very long time (probably a year) since we sat down to watch an episode. He falls asleep when he takes KB upstairs to sleep and I don't enjoy watching it alone . I started staying downstairs to watch election related news and some nice PBS specials they had around then. And somehow that again got me started on a little TV watching after every one went upstairs to sleep.

Back to the main story - since this post is all about stories. KB's obsession with "sthories" (as he says it) is something I wanted to write about. Everything to him is either a game or a story. He goes to bed every night listening to a story - title suggested either by him or by me. And wakes up and tells me the story he heard the previous night. (This morning he told me "The Deicer" story). And during the day he makes me tell so many stories that I am beginning to forget where reality begins or ends. For ex, I was driving back with KB after doing some grocery shopping. On the way, we saw a young teenager being given a ticket by the cop. I told KB casually that that "Anna" was being given a ticket because he drove past a red light. (I just checked the recording and remembered what I told him!). KB pauses to think and immediately says, "Sollu maa, Andha Anna story sollu maa". And then the prompting (from KB) starts.

Me: Andha Anna drive panninde irundhan. (That "Anna" was driving). Suddenly he drove past a red light, traffic vandhundrukkarcheye (he beat the red light even when there was so much traffic). Police officer andha corner'lendhu pathundhar (police officer was looking from the corner). He turned on his car lights and came behind Anna's car.

KB: Appram Anna?

Me: Appram Anna ange poi car'aa niruthitu police officer'ku wait pannan (he waited for the police officer)

KB: Police officer sonnar Anna kitte?

Me: Police officer sonnar Anna kitte," WHY did you drive like that? You know you can ram into the other cars if you do that. You know you are not supposed to do that", appdintu kochindar. (PO got mad at Anna).

KB: Udne Anna sonnan police officer kitte?

Me: Anna Sonnan, "Sorry police officer, naa inme indha maari panna maatein (won't do it again), I will be careful. I didn't realize I was driving so fast"

KB: Police officer sonnar...

Me: Police officer sonnar, I am going to give you a ticket. I will let you go this one time. But if you do it again, I will be very upset".

KB: Appram, Anna?

Me: Anna OK sollitu, car'le yerindu chamatha careful'aa drive pannindu ponan! That's it. That's the end of the police officer and Anna story. (Anna got into the car and like a good boy he drove away carefully).

You can imagine many many such incidents that happen every day. Each one is a story. My cousin and her family and my mami were visiting us for a week. We went to a farm where the four kids were playing on a hay stack. One of them scraped his leg while jumping from a tall one. And there it was - the story of that evening. And that night KB's bed time story was "The litte boy and the hay stack". We go to the beach and on the way to the parking lot, KB sees a man changing the tire in his pick up truck. All along the drive back, KB asked me to tell him the story of "The repair truck". I went to visit a friend today and her son cried saying his finger hurt and she looked at it and said that some thing might have poked him. So on the drive back it was the story of why the kutti boy cried.

If KB is sitting at his little table and painting he says, "Mamma, naa painting game vladinkein maa" (am playing painting game). If he is doing some tracing of letters he says, "Mamma I am playing tracing game ma". He sings some random tune and I sing along with him he says "Singing game vladlam maa" (Let's play singing game). If he and KG pass something like a juice carton to each other when they are sitting in their car seats, he says "Passing game vladrom maa".

I wish I could keep life this simple. What ever happens around me, it's a story that I am witnessing. What ever work I do, it's a game I am playing!

There is so much I think of writing about the things they do, but I just don't get to it. I thought I should at least write down about this "story" phase that KB is going through so I don't entirely forget this a year from now. This was a kid I used to worry as to why he only liked lift the flap type books and not story books. Now every picture he sees in either the magazine or the newspaper is a story, every random thing he sees as we drive by is a story and this is apart from the stories he actually reads in books and stories we make up for him at bed time. I managed to record a mini session with him reciting some stories. Including "Malia and Sasha get a puppy dog" where "Obama Uncle" goes to the animal shelter and gets them a Black dog with white spots and they all take a plane and go to the White house!.

He dreams of stories too I think. He stirred in his sleep (the restless sleeper that he is) and when I patted him, he said, "Fire story sollu maa" because he saw an Olympic torch like thing on the roof of a restaurant that evening before he went to bed. When I mentioned the word flame in that story, he said, "Yen throat'la kooda flame irukku". And I thought to myself, "Wow, he has a sore throat and he says his throat is in flames?". I was totally puzzled. Until I talked to B and discovered that B had told him the story of how B has a sore throat too and how the phlegm (which KB thought was the same as flame) made his throat ache.

If any of you want story ideas, feel free to email me, I will come up with random gibberish stories for you since I have stories coming out of my ears!

Good night!