Chez Moi

My son will grow up to be a great interrogator, am sure. He gets down to the res immediately, no faffing around. Last weekend, I was ten minutes into my weekly phone call with my mum when she mentioned that my dad has now taken this job of becoming a grandpa all over again so seriously, he has decided to go in for some false teeth. Apparently, there was some minor disagreement with a tourist bus and the car he was in somewhere on the Madras-Tirupathy highway re whose right of way it was. The car got pranged and thanks to being badgered by P last summer into wearing his seatbelt, he had it on and escaped with minor injuries - knocked a few of his teeth, hence my mom’s remark.

P was sitting beside me when I was getting these details so he was pretty up-to-date. His dad, however, walked in sleepily when I was asking my mum if dad had lost much blood and typically, went “what? what? what happened?”

Before I could react, P quipped: “Thatha had an accident, Daddy. It’s okay - he’s not dead.” Succinct, I call that.

Later that evening, we spoke to my dad. Before we did, though, P wasn’t too sure of his grandpa’s talking abilities.

“He has lost his teeth, Mummy, how is he going to talk? He is just going to say ‘ba, ba, ba!’”

So when my dad came on the line, he was met with a barrage of rapid-fire questions.

P: “Why were you so careless, Thatha? Why didn’t you wear your seatbelt properly? I can!”
My dad: “er….”
P: “So how many teeth did you loose?”
My dad: “…” (inaudible reply)
P: “Oh that many? You can still talk properly. How is that?”
My dad: “er….”
P: “I know why. It is because even though your teeth have all fallen out, you still caught them all in your hands. I know it. That’s why you can still talk. I know these things.”
My dad: “……”
P: “So how much did the Tooth Fairy give you?”
My dad: “???”
P: (exasperated sigh) “You know the Tooth Fairy gives you gold coins when you loose your teeth? How many coins did you get?”
My dad: “er, I don’t think India is on the Tooth Fairy’s radar, P!”
P: (shocked) “really? That sucks!”
My dad: “!!!”

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Now that lots of the older children in Year 2 are coming to school with a gappy smile, P has learnt that he too would start losing his teeth one day. Thanks in equal parts to his teachers, fellow students and Disney, he firmly believes that if he hides the fallen tooth under his pillow, the Tooth Fairy would leave him a shiny gold coin (curse you Disney!) the next morning. True to his Chetty origins, he swiftly calculated that he had 20 teeth in his mouth - a veritable gold mine! He even decided how he was going to put his new found wealth to use!Imagine his dismay when he learnt that the Tooth Fairy doesn’t visit kids in India! As we had been murmuring about returning to the homeland possibly once he finishes Infant school, he is quite frantic! He is busy hatching a plan to lose his teeth by the time he finishes Year 2 and net some profit before setting off home. Last I heard, he is still open to ideas! Anyone has a suggestion, please feel free….

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Conversation this morning ran somewhat like this:S: “Come on, P, hurry up now - wee and brush your teeth quickly!”
P: ……
S: “See you better go to the toilet right now and finish your job. You know your friend is waiting for you!” (He has a play date later on)
P: “What? Where? In the toilet?”
S: *groan*