For the kisses & kicks...love you all

Logged in to write a thought that popped up after a chat with a good friend earlier in the day. But as is my ritual, I had to check out the other blogs I follow and enjoy reading, and I found a post that had me all emotional. The writer of the blog is not a friend/acquaintance but can't call her stranger (at least not anymore). I know her through her blog, which I find extremely enjoyable. A few comments on couple of her posts made sure we were no longer strangers. In fact we even referred to each other as soulmates, after some of our gourmet etiquettes were found to be embarassingly similar.
This is not about my new-found blog friend, but about a post written by her. An email from a friend from the past and a phone call to the same friend inspired her to pen the post. Once again I found so much of me in her words, in the post, in the emotions described. My best, strongest, craziest and most intimate friendships are from school and college. I still cherish them, hold them close my heart. I know that even if we haven't had time (or made the effort) to catch up on each other or haven't managed to make it for each other's special days or didn't call up the last time he/she was here in town...nothing will change. One phone call, one meeting is all it takes to bring back the same emotions, same joy, same fondness that we shared years ago.

We still find ourselves welcoming each other with a thumping back-slap or hi-fi or the 'beep' words and soon we are rattling off about the good times: the inter-house culturals, the Holi celebrations which had us suspended, the sip-ups and ice-sticks from the canteen, the combined study sessions, movie outings, birthday treats, affairs (some survived, some died a sad death while some celebrated the end), teachers, gossip, exercusions and so much more. School, college and its memories fill the conversations, leaving no space or time for anything else.
We have a hearty laugh at the many fights, arguments we had over things that now seem silly, rag each other about the stupidities we've done, regretted over fights that cost us our friendship, and then laughed and laughed over our old photographs--the dance costumes, the farewell parties, the fashion shows, the Onam/Christmas celebrations, Union elections...
I could pick one friend after another and go on about the wonderful moments we shared. The infamous gangs we had in school, college and even today in our lives. Somewhere along we became professionals and met more people, made new friends, lived great times, shared laughter, tears (and bottles of Bacardi Breezers and Vodkas). Sometimes we sense a feeling of oneness after barely a hello or sometimes even without it. In my last organisation, I had developed a feeling of familiarity and friendship with my neighbour-colleague even before I met her. She was on her maternity leave while I joined. From day one, I had people telling me how similar I was to Her: my loud laughter, one-track mind that often steered to the dirty track, my wild manners, don't care sense of dressing, and guess what we both are Leos, both our husbands are Scorpios. By the time she was back to work (almost 4 months after I joined) we were already buddies. From neighbours at office, we soon became neighbours outside office too. I believe it's just a feeling that hits off a relationship. I am happy about every one of them I have and I love each of them.
Cheers to the many people who've made my life special in their own ways with their kisses and kicks. Thanks to Anne, my blogger friend, for taking me down this trip.
Any interesting/funny/emotional friendship tales to share? 

P.S: I have not mentioned any names for there are too many people who have taken over my heart, mind and soul. Someday I'll do a series on each of you. For now...luvya, missya..muahhh.

Just so that I don't forget what I originally wanted to write on, am leaving a hint hint here 'Concern Vs Curiosity'.

Malayalees love their Pavanaayi

Dasan and Vijayan, Pavanaazhi, Dick-ammayi (a christening done before the word got its 'below the belt' meaning), Still Photographer Nischal, House Owner Gopalakrishna Panicker, Damodar-ji, Bheemsingh ka Beta Ram Singh....
Kilometres and kilometres from Washington DC to.., Angane Pavanayi Shavamaayi..Enthokke aayirunnu..Malappuram Kathi..Olakkede Mood, Welcome to Ooty..Nice to Meet you, Kochinte peru Malaa Malaa, Ethra manoharam aaya aajarangal....
(PS: The true essence and humour is lost in translation, I know)

If you are a Malayalee and if you love Malayalam films, then none of these characters or dialogues would need introduction or explanation. More than two generations have laughed and laughed and continue to laugh at these characters and their dialogues. I may be a little partial to actor Mohanlal in this selection, but not many can argue that he's been part of some of the most entertainingly hilarious films in Malayalam. This post isn't about Mohanlal or his expertise at humour. It's about films, characters, dialogues that have left Malayalees literally rolling in laughter (at least it's happened many a times in our family, my mom's even had an asthma attack after all the uncontrollable laughing), and still has all of us breaking into an equally enjoyable laugh every time we see it, hear it or even think about it. In fact, I find I have a smile on my face while writing this.
Almost all Malayalee (not in a mood to to use the Mallu tag) homes mention at least one of these characters or dialogues in their every day routine. 'Ellathinum athintethaaya samayum undu Dasaa...', a dialogue that pops into many discussions in many Malayalee families, even today. Movies like Kilukkam, Chithram, Gandhinagar 2nd street, Naadodikattu, Aram+Aram=Kinnaram (pardon the all-Mohanlal list, it's only a coincidence) have us laughing even before the characters mouth their dialogues.
My aunt who has a Gujarati son-in-law has only one woe. "He's a lovely person, very intelligent and well-behaved. But what to do, we cannot share our Mohanlal-Jagathy jokes with him!"
Hats off to a generation of writers, directors, actors who conceived and executed such characters/dialogues with ease and a certain brilliance too. To have people laugh at the same joke over and over and over again is no short of brilliance. Where are those movies? Where are those refreshingly humorous dialogues? Where are those cutely cunning characters? Where are those innocently mischievous movies?
I miss them. I miss them even more after a disaster of a film I saw yesterday. Funny doesn't mean a self-proclaimed superstar dressed in a outrageous outfit (not befitting his 40-plus age) mouthing 'trying-to-be-funny' dialogues with a stupid expression and a thumping loud background. The humour of the 80s and early 90s was subtle, situational and very emotional. It was not loud, forced or accessorised.
I miss them. I miss them even more when I think that my son and the children today may not be fortunate to enjoy simple, sensitive humour. Not to say all attempts are a disaster...some efforts can be lauded..but not quite there though.
My Malayalee friends...do write about your favourite Dasans & Vijayans and your most enjoyable dialogues.

(PS: This post was inspired by an old school mate...thanks Rijo)

Thanks BlogAdda for the 'Tangy Tag'

Just when I was starting to feel a little upset about having no new comments (Yes I like to be heard, read...and I love the responses), comes the update from BlogAdda saying my piece 'Time Out for Tharoor' has been chosen for their Tangy Tuesday Picks. Am smiling and am loving it.

Time Out for Tharoor

It's the age of everything instant: quick, exciting, entertaining. That's exactly what IPL--the Indian Premier League-- promised, and offered. The inaugural edition (2008) was a massive hit...and the 20-20 format was here to stay. Twenty overs a side meant heavy hitting, glorious fours, huge sixers, spot-on fielding, fabulous catches and more on the field. Off the field: Packed stadium, star-studded audience, cheer girls, post IPL parties and more (as we now know). Interestingly enough the 2009 edition of the INDIAN Premier League was held in South Africa. Reason: The IPL dates clashed with the election dates.
There was no way the Election Commission/governement was going to reschedule the 'right of a democracy' to allow Daredevils, Royals, Chargers and Knightriders to have their way. Of course there was no way the IPL's Big Boss would give in to the government's pressure and reschedule the event. The way out was to outsource the IPL. The name remains Indian, the venue would be international. A few countries were considered, formalities & procedures discussed and debated and finally South Africa it was. The 2009 edition too was claimed to a big, rather bigger, success despite being away from home.
The IPL-3 (2010) came back to its homeground but not without its share of controversies. The Pakistani cricketers were denied visa, the team owners ignored Pakistani players during the auction, which invisted mixed responses. Those who criticised it were even termed anti-Indian. All put to rest, the IPL 2010 got off to another colourful start. A few changes were seen in some of the teams, few hush-hush stories of discontent and incompatibility among team members were heard, but for the millions of TV viewers and the thousands of staidum viweres, none of it mattered. They cheered the sixers, fours, wickets with equal excitement.
With all going well, controversy couldn't be far behind. Amidst IPL-3 happened the bidding for two more teams. Kochi and Pune won the deals.

Being born in Kochi and having lived larger part of my life here, I did feel a sense of pride. Even more when I learnt that one of the members in the consortium that won Kochi was my senior from school. Kochi was excited: authorities promised to hurry up the stadium work, papers launched contests inviting names for IPL Kochi, cricket associations were busy preparing their boys. Soon the simmerings started, and soon it reached a boil. Union Minister Shashi Tharoor, who played a key role in clinching the deal for Kerala (he won from Thiruvananthapuram) may not have been prepared for this game.
IPL Big Boss Lalit Modi and Tharoor started a war of tweets. Questions were raised about the credibility of the Rendezvouz Consortium that won IPL Kochi, a certain lady was targetted and was accused on being Tharoor's proxy. The minister's involvement (which he claimed was that of only a "mentor") was questioned, his links with the lady was questioned...it was questions galore.
Not one to take it quiet, Tharoor retorted accusing Modi of trying to sabotage the Kochi deal. Tharoor said Modi favoured another team and was intentionally making things difficult for Kochi. The debate turned dirty, turned political with the opposition raising it in Parliament. Tharoor's credibility to continue as Union Minister was strongly questioned. The drama continued finally resulting in Tharoor's resignation--an act which is clearly forced exit. Earlier in the day the lady termed his proxy surrendered her stakes in the team and quit her post too. The loss is all Tharoor's. Well, is it?
It's really a loss, an insult to a game, once termed 'Gentleman's Game'. Cricket has taken a backseat, with controversy taking centrestage. Like a columnist wrote ins his Sunday column: This is not cricket. This is IPL. No one deserves our sympathy, for clearly everyone has their agenda. Big Boss Modi has his plans, Tharoor has his secret interests, the Opposition had its selfish reasons in protesting, the Government had its reasons for forcing Tharoor out. A sport is no longer a sport here. Cricket, is often termed religion, in India. No wonder the country and the people in power are divided over it. Religion has caused a lot of bloodshed, dirty talking and suffering to the country. Now being next to religion, Cricket too meets the same fate.
If you'd rather use your time baking a chocolate cake or walking your dog or doing anything that in no way reminds you of IPL, then move on. If you do have a word to say...write on. Here's what a few people had to say.

To live without fear of the stalking shadows...

Two of my recent posts talk about lingerie, breasts, thighs and a little more of the female body and how its dressed up and viewed by many. This is not more on it. Just happened to read a friend's blog where she wrote about 'molestation', an act which is almost always suffered by women. She mentioned a few instances where she had to experience the 'forbidden touch'. Not one to look around helplessly, and ignore the torture, she reacted...verbally and physically in almost all situations. How many of react?
Why it happens, what pleasure do men get by just rubbing on to a woman or giving a quick, rushed squeeze to her butt or chest (at times amidst the crowd he may not even be sure it's a woman he's felt...could be a fat-assed, pot-bellied man) or exposing themselves to a random woman on the street who definitely gives him the most disgusted of looks? I've asked many men the reason behind this absolutely pervert act. No answers have been satisfying. Age, caste, status, financial background...none of it matters when it comes to perversion. A mad man on the streets or a celebrated actor or a socialite...or a anybody stoops to the same bloody level when they start thinking below the belt.
Another friend who runs a portal focussing mainly on women/gender/environment and other issues that matter today put up a question on FB. She's asked us to cite the safest city for women  and the reasons. We live in a free country, a free world, we are entitled to live a life without fear, breathe fresh air, enjoy the seasons, the flowers, the colours. Here we are first trying to find a safe home where we can do all of this. It's a pity we live in fear. We are constantly on alert mode when we're walking down the road or riding a bus or entering a crowded theatre. Our eyes are always prying for hands that may creep up our chest or backside. We are advised to check for cameras when we enter hotel rooms or malls. We are never carefree.
We are denied the basic right to live, enjoy, experience, relish and rejoice wholeheartedly. Why? Because some lecherous pervert out there may reach out to us, scar our minds and snatch our freedom. Rape is not of the body alone, it strips us of our innocence, our freedom, our laughter, our emotions, our life. Rape is not just physical, a perverted look, word or thought too amounts to rape.
Pepper sprays, umbrellas, safety pins, hair clips, sandals...when can women not have to carry these for safety reasons? When can women walk freely without fearing that the shadow behind would pounce on her? It would be interesting to read through the responses to the 'which city is safest for women' discussion. Let's see if there is any one city that gets a majority vote. Maybe...women will have a choice then. For more on this read on and vote here.

A peep into the Ps of life

Possessiveness is not something I enjoy (doing or being a victim of). Be it with friends, partners, family...the 'oh you don't have time for me'/ 'you visited her but couldn't give me a call'/ 'you went out with them and didn't call me' types of conversations are an absolute No-No. Come to me with such woes and cribs and chances are that you'll see a red-faced me at my nastiest worst...and I'll shoo you away in the meanest possible way.
P for Passion, P for Possessiveness. Some people do it both...try to possess you with a passion that soon turns into P for Pain. I've had my moments. Don't know if its got to do with the city I call home. Kochi/Cochin is where I have lived almost all my life (and still do...). Kerala was never known to be the yo-flavoured modern city. In my school times, which I realise is almost two decades ago, there were unsaid rules. Travelling on bikes with guys, eating out with boys, movies with boys or for that matter anything where girls and boys came together wasn't viewed with much pleasure. People, my dear ones included, too were stuck-up on this. Fortunately for me, my parents weren't too caught up in these moral policing groups. But my mom being who she is (sweet, sensitive and quite submissive) did fear society (or more specifically some people in society). I remember her telling me: "If you're going to be dropped by any of your male friends, then make sure you get off at the start of the road and not here in front of the house". I found it quite strange coz I thought hopping off a few blocks away from home would have people talking...but mom didn't care about them. She only cared about a certain neighbour, who was also a very good friend of hers. As long as he daughter (Me) never got into the black book of neighbour aunty (NA), my mom was relieved. For NA could be quite nasty with her remarks and amma's not the kind who could speak up for her daughter and shut their mouths. Safer option was to not let NA get started.
But amma did not have it too easy...especially with a crazy daughter like me. NA did get her chances. Once for my b'day a good friend (he's one crazy guy. A charmer with girls...and is still working his charms, but only one at a time now. He's a darling and we've lasted this long...) came over with my gift and card. We weren't home and he decided to leave it with Madam NA. Being an admirer of all things good, he very sweetly described me as Miss Thunder Thighs. The shock waves it sent through NA. The moment we got back, she summoned my mom, showed her the card and sat her down to a good hour-long lecture on how her daughter should be kept away from such company. Such boys are not to be trusted...etc..etc.... I am amazed my mom garnered the strength to sit through it all without breaking into tears. NA concludes by saying: "She's like daughter to me and that's why I show so much concern".  Oh no.. not again. I am happy with just one Mother.
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Relationships, the romantic ones, haven't been easier either. I am known to have a bad taste in men. At least that's what most of my male friends tell me. I refuse to agree. Every relationship was beautiful (until it ended)...and my man was like Prince Charming (until the charm faded away). I regret none and I am happy I went through them. The 'P' factor popped up in many, though. I, for one, had more boy friends than girls. I had my girly gang, who I still swear by. But it's the guys I found easy to get along. But I guess they liked a friend like me, but not a partner like me. The friend could be carefree, spirited, independent, loud, crazy, humorous, enjoy the dirty talking, etc but the partner/wife had to be sweet, pretty, shy, and of course put his likes above hers.
I've gone through my shares of 'What were you talking to him so late into the night?'/ 'Why did he have to drop you?'/ 'Why do you want to go for dinner with him, why not lunch?'. And even more ridiculously stupid questions. The answer to almost all of these were fights, arguments, flaring tempers, nights of crying. A day later all would be solved with a sorry, a few tears and a few mushy 'You know I love you a lot. Just that sometimes I get very possessive' lines. All is well...until the next fight.
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Is it only a guy thing? Or are girls equally possessive too? I am a hopelessly sensitive girl, who cries watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai even today. It's quite a contrast to the rest of me, coz I like to be this independent girl who makes her own decisions, does her own thing, lives by her own rules. The bending of rules, if any, happens out of my own will for people who I hold close and dear. Possessiveness hasn't found space in my mind yet. It may slowly be creeping now when it comes to my son. At times when my mother-in-law refers to herself as 'amma' while talking to my son and urges him to call her so, it does get to me. I wouldn't want to share that responsibility or title with anyone. For everything else...so far am bindaas!

Lingerie is in....the 'inner' style

Now that am at chaddi tales and lacy panties, let me share one more "inner" story. I was watching a fashion-awareness show on TV the other day. Here was this anchor lady, perfectly dressed in (what she claimed was) the style of the season. In a voice that sounded more sleepy than sexy, more robotic than refreshing...she went on to educate me (and all other viewers, of course) on what's cool this summer. How to beat the heat with your style, how to  to look hot in cool clothes and what's 'IN' and what's NOT this season.
Out walked a model displaying the first trend of the season. I can't update you on the style coz I wasn't listening much either...a growing waistline isn't the best figures to flaunt.Many more followed, and then suddenly I was up watching, and listening when the guy (whom they call their in-house fashion consultant) announced that 'lingerie is in'. Gosh...when did it go out of style, anyways. This is what happens when you don't have your regular dose of Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire of Feminas. Here I was still being loyal to it, never having known that I was actually doing a fashion faux pas. Or did they mean that lingerie was "in" as in "inside". Wasn't it always meant to be in, except if you were Superman! He (Not Superman silly, the fashion consultant) went on to add: 'lingerie is in, and can be worn inside or out' teaming it right to create the right effect. As far as my information goes, lingerie has just one basic purpose, and effect.
Looks like there's a lot I need to catch up on. Am truly fashion-challenged my dears. So forgive me my sins if am caught with my lingerie in, when its actually out. I need to make note of the times when the 'Trying to be Sexy lady and the Girly guy fashion consultant' comes on TV to flaunt the latest in style and trend. I'll keep you posted if I find something exciting, and meanwhile please keep me informed about what's in and what's not. For now, let me rush to do some lingerie shopping and create the right effect.

Sania-Shoaib-Ayesha....who really cares!

Sania Mirza was first the Sports Page girl...the smart girl from a conservative community in Hyderabad who stormed the tennis circuit and made the Indian presence strong. Tennis being the glam sport that it is, Sania was soon seen on Page 3. When sports wasn't keeping her in news, her dressing, link-ups and anything the media could dish up gave Sania the Page 3-girl tag.
Today, she's on Page 1, lead story. We would have loved it if she was up there smiling at us with a Grand Slam Trophy in hand or doing us proud being the World No 1 or anything that 'sportingly' would do India proud. Coz isn't that the reason Sania Mirza is news today. She's chased, written about, lured into controversies, clicked, captured in the best and worst...all because tennis shot her to fame.
Unfortunately, Sania doesn't seem to have much time for tennis these days. Injuries, controversies...Sania'z got her hands full. A much-hyped engagement to a childhood friend, which was later called off citing 'incompatibility' (what would so many of us do without this word). Then came the 'breaking news: Sania Mirza-Shoaib Malik to tie the knot.
The reactions came fast and furious too. The first I saw came from my dad, a very knowing smirk that meant 'Didn't she find anyone else other than this ass?'. My mom joined in, not aware who this guy was. SOon she was educated. Shoaib Malik was a Pakistani cricket player who has been banned by the PCB and so is relatively free now. My husband was quick to add a list of superlatives to further detail Shoaib Malik's character. He (my husband) admired the yesteryear Pakistani cricket of Waqar Younis, Wasim Akram, Imran Khan, Aquib Javed....and equally hates the current crop of cricketers. This explains the rather brutal outburst at Shoaib Malik.

The media was up and busy and reactions poured in from many ends. The strongest and loudest came from this girl Ayesha Siddique who claimed to have had married Malik afew years ago. She and her family had brought up this issue earlier too. I, for one, am not the kind who follows conventions/traditions. In fact I am rooted to rebelliion, I would say. A second marriage, a divorce, extra marital relations, single mother, these aren't things that shock me or things that I would hold against people. But things have to be clean and clear. A mess is a mess is a mess and only messes up life and relationships further.

Either this girl Ayesha ought to be bonkers to be chasing this Malik Man about a 'nikah' which he, his family and now Sania claims never happened. Or Malik should be an absolute jerk to be playing smart with 2 girls. But then again, we don't expect someone like Sania--who's travelled the world on her own, interacted with people from all over, planned her own career and worked for it, spoken sensibly to the media and handled her life and career rather boldly--to be trapped in a rather filmy love triangle.

Whatever the truth behind the Sania-Shoaib-Ayesha game, for now the media has a lot to keep them busy. The whole thing's playing out almost like a scene straight out of a movie. For me, I find it rather disgusting and whether the game ends on a love-all or a double-fault I really don't care.

Trial n error

Made with My Cool Signs.Net

That day...that year...

A peep into the past is a refresher for me. I often wonder if I'm still stuck somewhere in the 1990s or early 2000. A picture, a person, a place, a movie, an incident, an advertisement...so many things that instantaneously transports me to the past: to a memory, to a person, to a relationship, to a day, to a celebration. Today, it was a chat box that blinked to tell me that a special someone from my past is available (well only for a chat through that lil window, sadly). I, without a thought, click open a chat box and key in the customary 'Hey wassup. U thr?'. Not for a second wondering if he would be with his boss working on a presentation, or discussing projects with a client, or be playing online games with his lil daughter or checking out family albums with his wife.
As luck would have it, he wasn't doing any of these. Well I don't think so. Coz he promptly replied, a rather enthusiastic one (inferred from the many emoticons on display). Before we knew it, we were back to 'that' day in Chennai around 10 years ago, rewinding the events and wondering why the day ended the way it did. Why did we act the way we did (dumb, pretentious) or why we didn't do it the way we should have (honest, fearless). Turning back in time and wishing for it to change doesn't work, it only helps you have a hearty laugh over those days or sometimes leave you sighing over things that you wished you had done differently.
Here we were chatting after many many years. The long absence--in sight and in sound--of many years never surfaced in our conversation. Our relationship remained just as fresh, sweet, enjoyable and entertaining as it was. We were just as crazy, as wacky, as naughty, as intimate as we were when we last met. This happens only in some relations, only in some friendships.
The years, and the change in roles (he's a husband and a father now. I'm a wife and mommy too) somehow allowed us the space and freedom to be more open and frank with each other. We shared things we secretly wished to share a decade ago, we asked each other questions we wanted answers for many many years ago; I found myself opening up a little too much than I normally would. It's always a pleasure to bare your soul to people who have a patient ear, a sensitive mind and a loving heart.
We hope to meet up sometime, hopefully in Chennai itself, refresh our friendship and maybe relive 'that' day the way we wanted it to play out. Somewhere amidst the talk, the chat window told me he's gone 'offline'. He disappeared...suddenly..without a g'bye. Here I was, still stuck in 'that' day of that year. Maybe I'll catch him blinking a green 'available' sign sometime soon.

Chaddi tales....

"Remember the time when you would run out of the house in your chaddis and head straight to the neighbour aunty's living room, cry for biscuits and cakes, down a whole packet, pull at their curtains, mess up the place...and worst pee on their sofa!"

How many of you have had to sit through such conversations about yourself when you were in your 20s, and had your girlfriend and her parents over for dinner? Just when the guests were all seated and everyone was trying to be casual and comfortable with each other, break the ice of embarrassment/formality...your uncle or aunt (in most cases), or sometimes your own parents decide to ease the environment with your childhood doings. The first chaddi-story is out and everyone is in splits and just when you have recovered from the shocker comes a contribution from another aunt and so it goes on and on. All the navarasas flash on your face, as your cringe, squirm and just wanna vanish from the room. There you are dressed in your smartest, behaving every bit the gentleman you're to-be father-in-law would want you to be and also trying to be the sweet boy your mom-in-law would fall in love with. But all that remains in their mind is a lil boy wearing chaddi or maybe nothing at all...and his umpteen crazy doings.
I am, till date, reminded of the time when my mom or aunts would buy me those lacy, white baby panties only to find out they don't fit me coz I was a baby JLo. Or the hilariously embarrassing ways in which I pronounced certain words (which I can't put down here since no vulgar content is allowed in here). And many more stories. I'd rather be buried alive than have them repeated here or anywhere. But there's no escaping it...toddler tales haunt you almost until your grave.
I remember an incident which involved a former colleague (who'll be referred to as V--for victim) and an elderly aunt (who appropriately will be called S--the saddist). When V and S met at our office (our news desk room), V greeted S with a warm smile and reminded her that they were old family friends and even relatives. A slow rewind into a few reels of the past and the aunt S's face lighted up: "Oh yes, you're V, isn't it? Gosh you're a big girl now (I wonder how that happened). I remember you as a lil girl running around in white lacy panties." OUCH. OUCH. Suddenly, my male colleagues had stopped their 'nose for news' job and was eying V with a 'Really...you never mentioned it to us' look. Am sure they even tried visualising V in that lacy avatar. The aunt went on and on with more of her child hood horrors and she just wanted to black out.
Would I grow up to do the same to my son too? When he brings home his girlfriend or maybe boss, would I start my conversation with 'Oh, by the way did you know he would stand on the balcony, pee in his shorts and then dance on it splashing it all over!'. Ummmm....maybe not. Hopefully I'll be sane enough to keep his childhood where it is best stored--in my heart. Hopefully he'll give me many more moment of pride and pleasure later in his growing up days which I could flaunt without embarrassing him.