christmas eve. the mother- with -a strong -motherhood conscience once again decorates the christmas tree at home. not one but two. A real tree of medium height in a garden pot, and another faux paper one. meticulously hangs the decorations--plenty of balls, and stars, and chocolate look alikes, and snowmen, and their little sticks, and plenty of giftwrapped boxes (with nothing inside them). stands back and surveys the scene. tree looks quite bare still. brings out plenty of cotton wool and pulling it over the children's eyes, says, " Ahem! here's the snow. plenty of it. yay yay." children repeat ( the yay yipee yay bit). tree still looks bare. takes out some birthday buntings left over from last to last year and lays it all over the tree. good. tree looks like a hara bhara kebab. hang a big paper star with lamp inside that makes the drawing room look like a million bucks when lit up. hmm...
that is the easy part. both mithi and my neice hitankshi are shreiking like banshees about hanging their socks (not stockings, mind you). till last year i only decorated the tree. now rinki and hitankshi have introduced mithi to the idea of santa claus and his presents for kids. so now, i am stuck for life with magical santa gifts too. mithi dances about with glee like a baby hannibal.
hey, there's a good thing here after all. lovely way to be rid of the noisy twosome for a change and pack them off to bed. announce that santa comes on his sleigh around 8 pm and only visits those homes where the children are fast asleep. he positively frowns upon late nights for children.
the two hannibals hover around. blue blooded doubting thomases. mother praying desperately as never before in life that her ruse works. gambit pays off. but not before hitankshi calls up her dad long distance to tell him to hang another huge "socks" for her at home. double whammy for her indeed.
mithi has a brainwave. why not hang papa's socks to accomodate more things? when one tidal wave recedes, another occurs with precise timing.
mithi throws open the main door. runs out at top speed. muffled voices....approaching footsteps.
am done with my work. look forward to peaceful night with my favourite novel. there's mithi. back.
with five of her neighbourhood friends, each holding out their dad's socks.
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