Thursday, 25 July 2013

Where do my parents work?

I somehow managed to send raks to school the whole week, but had to sacrifice her music and dance class. Needless to say, she was bored and had taken to rummaging her cupboard for old books, papers to cut. And we came upon an old scrapbook from her pre-kg. We went through it and found an old exercise with the theme, "Where do my parents work?". And I was reminded of a funny incident that happened during the project.

I had gone to Raks school to pick her up as usual. Her teacher, hurried out the minute she saw me and I braced myself to hear the latest mischievous episode. (Last was pouring water on somebody's sandwich!)

"Hello Rakshah's mother. How are you?" the teacher said pleasantly

"I am good. Is she ready? Can I take her?"

"She is doing her coloring. We did an exercise in class about parent's profession." She said and looked at me meaningfully

I smiled at her waiting. She abruptly changed subjects and asked, "So it must be difficult for you to leave your work and come to pick her up in the middle."

I said "No. I don't mind. I love picking her up myself."

Then she fidgeted around a bit and decided that asking point blank was the only solution.

"Where do you work?"

"I am a freelance writer. I work from home." I said

Oh! "Freelance! ok ok. And your husband?"

"He is a film director."

"Oh! Oh! That's great. Now I understand." She looked embarrassed and confused

I couldn't question her any further because raks came by showing me her crayon work and asking my opinion about it. I managed to gather her things and came home. After lunch, my husband joined us and raks told us all about her day and the day's theme. She said that the teacher asked us in turn to tell what work our parents do. Excited my husband asked, "So what did you tell?

She straightened her shoulders and brought a serious look on her face and said, "My father doesn't do anything. He goes to office and then lies down and watches TV and my mother checks email at home."

To say that we were dismayed would be an understatement.