No. This isn't Martin Luther King's iconic speech in past tense. It is rather a tale that testifies how much creativity is needed in today's world, to convince a kid to wear a dress that they would rather not.
Every morning, my day is made or spoiled, depending on raks' response to the outfit that I pick up for her. And most days, she would opt for her favourite t-shirt, a faded yellow sleeveless top with a couple of sketch pen marks that no Ariel or Surf could vanish. After many tantrums, shouting matches, I got an inspiration from an unlikely source.
It all started with a phone call, from one of the grand aunts, who claimed that the grandparents had come to her in a dream and had specifically given a list of stuff for my FIL to do. This led to a discussion, as to why they make an appearance only in the grand aunt(s) dreams and not in his. I agreed it was a tad unfair, as he is the one who is performing their shradh rituals (ceremonial death rituals).
And that's when I had my inspiration and I plotted and planned my move, all through the night and was ready to put it into action in the morning. As usual, she was bleary eyed, curling up like a cat on every other surface. And I took out the pink t-shirt that she had worn only once and had abandoned for that dirty yellow t-shirt.
She immediately threw up a tantrum that involved shaking her head, flailing her arms and loud decibels.
Me: "Raks kanna, I had a dream yesterday. And this pink t-shirt came in my dream."
That's when she abruptly stopped the tantrum in a mid-high pitch and paid attention. The incidence of a t-shirt making an appearance in a dream was unprecedented.
Me: "This poor pink t-shirt came and complained to me that the dirty yellow t-shirt has been ragging everybody in the wardrobe stating that he is the favourite and that they are all losers."
I watched her expression changing with trepidation. Will it work or not?
Raks: "Really. Is that so mummy?"
Yipee! It worked and I was mentally doing cartwheels!
Me: "Yes. Poor pink t-shirt. She came in my dream and started crying. What do I tell the pink t-shirt? Shall I tell her that you hate her?"
Her outrage at the poor wronged t-shirt was worth watching. She immediately took the pink t-shirt in hand and said, "No Pink t-shirt. I love you."
That's no good. She needs to go all the way with her love!
Me: "Pink t-shirt, she loves you. But she won't wear you."
Raks looked at me and said, "No I will wear you one day! Promise"
Me: "Please don't cry. She says she will wear you one day."
Raks took back the pink t-shirt and screwed up her face to a thinking expression. It was time for some hard decisions. And once she made up her mind, she rarely changed it (until she spotted the next best thing).
Raks: "Pink t-shirt don't cry. I will teach that yellow t-shirt a lesson and wear you."
Bingo!
And triumphantly, we marched out the room, wearing the pink t-shirt and the bad yellow had his comeuppance. It was a wonderful moment of glory and I basked in it the whole day.
Next morning, I had dug out the almost new t-shirt that raks had worn it only once and had relegated it to the farthest nook of the cupboard stating that it was a 'boy' t-shirt. Even as I got ready with the dream story, she said, "Amma, Poor yellow t-shirt is sad and has been crying. He came in my dream yesterday and said, 'please wear me.'"
Impaled by my own sword, I had to give in. But we reached a compromise, my dream had a chance to get realized every alternate day and now we look through the wardrobe and plan the dream well in advance, albeit secretly...
Every morning, my day is made or spoiled, depending on raks' response to the outfit that I pick up for her. And most days, she would opt for her favourite t-shirt, a faded yellow sleeveless top with a couple of sketch pen marks that no Ariel or Surf could vanish. After many tantrums, shouting matches, I got an inspiration from an unlikely source.
It all started with a phone call, from one of the grand aunts, who claimed that the grandparents had come to her in a dream and had specifically given a list of stuff for my FIL to do. This led to a discussion, as to why they make an appearance only in the grand aunt(s) dreams and not in his. I agreed it was a tad unfair, as he is the one who is performing their shradh rituals (ceremonial death rituals).
And that's when I had my inspiration and I plotted and planned my move, all through the night and was ready to put it into action in the morning. As usual, she was bleary eyed, curling up like a cat on every other surface. And I took out the pink t-shirt that she had worn only once and had abandoned for that dirty yellow t-shirt.
She immediately threw up a tantrum that involved shaking her head, flailing her arms and loud decibels.
Me: "Raks kanna, I had a dream yesterday. And this pink t-shirt came in my dream."
That's when she abruptly stopped the tantrum in a mid-high pitch and paid attention. The incidence of a t-shirt making an appearance in a dream was unprecedented.
Me: "This poor pink t-shirt came and complained to me that the dirty yellow t-shirt has been ragging everybody in the wardrobe stating that he is the favourite and that they are all losers."
I watched her expression changing with trepidation. Will it work or not?
Raks: "Really. Is that so mummy?"
Yipee! It worked and I was mentally doing cartwheels!
Me: "Yes. Poor pink t-shirt. She came in my dream and started crying. What do I tell the pink t-shirt? Shall I tell her that you hate her?"
Her outrage at the poor wronged t-shirt was worth watching. She immediately took the pink t-shirt in hand and said, "No Pink t-shirt. I love you."
That's no good. She needs to go all the way with her love!
Me: "Pink t-shirt, she loves you. But she won't wear you."
Raks looked at me and said, "No I will wear you one day! Promise"
Me: "Please don't cry. She says she will wear you one day."
Raks took back the pink t-shirt and screwed up her face to a thinking expression. It was time for some hard decisions. And once she made up her mind, she rarely changed it (until she spotted the next best thing).
Raks: "Pink t-shirt don't cry. I will teach that yellow t-shirt a lesson and wear you."
Bingo!
And triumphantly, we marched out the room, wearing the pink t-shirt and the bad yellow had his comeuppance. It was a wonderful moment of glory and I basked in it the whole day.
Next morning, I had dug out the almost new t-shirt that raks had worn it only once and had relegated it to the farthest nook of the cupboard stating that it was a 'boy' t-shirt. Even as I got ready with the dream story, she said, "Amma, Poor yellow t-shirt is sad and has been crying. He came in my dream yesterday and said, 'please wear me.'"
Impaled by my own sword, I had to give in. But we reached a compromise, my dream had a chance to get realized every alternate day and now we look through the wardrobe and plan the dream well in advance, albeit secretly...
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