Flushed and glued!!!

"We spend the first twelve months of our children's' lives teaching them to walk and talk and the next twelve years telling them to sit down and shut up."...Phyllis Diller


And I just did that!!
And hours later I am still eaten by guilt. The look that crossed the little one’s face broke my heart. He had kept to himself all evening, not troubling me, working hard on his craft work. Cutting and sticking pieces of paper…

Toilet tissues have found new uses thanks to television channels showing interesting programs on craftwork . My kids love these programs, and so do I. When I’m tired and having no energy to function around a 2 boy household, I thank my stars, these programs are aired on TV.
In spite of all the war that goes on against TV watching for kids, I subscribe to the fact, that a good program can work well for your child , and so it does.

Now my family is thrown out of gear…after the hand wash episodes, now it’s the turn of disappearing tissue paper. Whole rolls of paper is water washed into balls, human figures, painted and glued together, so that makes another item in the house dwindle, the scotch tape, or if nothing else (actually more preferred) the insulation tape, in all sizes and colors.
Now this tape can wind itself around a very normal, healthy tennis ball ( It bounces better ma!!) , it holds two seemingly innocent sticks together for some deed its always unaware of…sometimes it could be used as the catapult, or maybe a bow and arrow, but it can be used…none of those shop bought stuff hold a candle to these lopsided craftwork

When the presenter Neil, smiles his trademark one, and does his various stuff, little does he know how the mommas on this side of the TV would like to wring his neck…Inspirations aside, I have now, small stones, pebbles ( picked off our own apartment neatly manicured garden) , shells, sticks, vague looking objects, sand, mud, charcoal from the dhobhi’s space, all brought in to satisfy the little ones’ creative outbursts.

He spent a whole morning, stooped and pensive posture, working hard on his new Pièce de résistance, my entire drawing room, resembling a stonewashed sandpit. …and turned around to proudly showcase it to his tired-migraine-hit-momma, when she turns and screams with horror.
She sees first the floor, not the little piece of paper, he’s proudly displaying…and gives him a earful.

Thankfully for her, he knows she'll immediately regret it and come and hear him say, "Ma! Look what I did…awesome isn’t it???"

And she, after her initial mad reaction, sees his work and can’t stop herself from giving him a big warm hug and laughs when he tries to squirm out his wiry body from her blotchy, potchy kisses…

While trying her best to not show ,her mind furiously working hard and trying to trace the next batch of tissue rolls kept in storage….