I wait

It is almost time for me to run get the boys. I am sure there is a reason why the day has fled like screaming villagers before an advancing army but I don't know where the day went. I must go quick and do laundry and get sundry bits ready for the boys to snack on when they descend on me like mosquitoes after blood. I will continue this later.

I am waiting for the boys to call me from the grandparents' house to taxi them back home. They officially get off at around 3:10 or 3:20 pm (not sure when actually because I am never there to catch them when they fall out of the hands of school) but then they may (at least older boy may) make face to face contact with the other sex after school to increase their popularity ratings and thus they may not travel to the grandparents' home until around 4:00 pm where both elderly grandparents will be in atwitter wondering if their precious grandsons have been kidnapped and sold to some child slave ring. And then, they will eat the grandparents' healthy meal choices of chips, pop and junk food and place themselves in worship before the multitude of eyes of the television outlets in the house. They will be in the dream of CSI for at least an hour learning new ways to be men and kill off the remaining members of our own species and other species. Then, abruptly, the younger boy will realize that there are no computers in the grandparents' home for him to play violent games on. He will go to the telephone. He will phone me.

Boy "Mum, where are you? We've been waiting for ages. Pick us up right now."

It will be about 4:30 pm by this time. A full hour after school has demised for the day. But no worries. I go to the grandparents' house. Both of my parents cluck worriedly over the fact that neither of the boys have made themselves pigs and eaten every scrap of food in their fridge. In fact, all they have eaten is chips and pop.

My mother "I tried to give them rice and curry but they don't want my cooking. Look at them. They are so thin. Why don't you feed them properly?"

Me "Mum, you know the way I cook. They only want pizza/hot dogs/hamburgers and chips from that great obesity manufacturing factory in developed nations (take your pick - Pizza Hut, the Big M, Harveys, and yes, maybe even A and W).

My mother "When you kids were small, I used to feed you all decent meals." So why is she feeding my damn kids chips and pop???

I wait. I now think about the luxury of having my parents here to fuss over my children and the fact that I need not run to the house to catch the boys myself but wait until they are ready to be captured. In two short weeks, these almost eighty year old snow birds will go on their laborious journey to England and Bangladesh. They go to England to visit my aunts and cousins. They go to Bangladesh to visit my dad's family. My mother's family from Nepal and India will congregate in Bangladesh. All or nearly all of my relatives are fairly ancient by now. I must go visit them before we all die.

But I wait. I fill up four pop bottles with tap water so that my parents will have some water. The water main that burst in their community is taking a long time to fix. I wonder if they will have it done soon? In any case, I must go now. The damp laundry on my bed is making a faint impression and I must get it off the bed.