My son, the braveheart

Moving into an independent house after having lived in a flat for a while is certainly a novel if not an exciting experience. But along with the freedom, also comes a niggling fear-“Is it safe enough?” I hadn’t realized how much our little boy had been absorbing (his satellite dish ears do have a function!!) until last night.

Hubby dear had left for a ‘night out’ with the boys and it was just me and Appu at home. Appu, having been brushed and bathed to within an inch of his life, was safely tucked up in bed with only his little head peeking out of the quilt (in this weather!! Just seeing him wrapped up in it made me sweat some more!!).
Bedtime is when Appu shares his deepest thoughts, dreams and stories. So I wasn’t surprised when a little voice piped up, “Amma, you know something?” “What?” I asked. “If someone knocks at our door, call me ok?” My heart swelled with motherly pride. What a brave little lad we had raised!! “Why, what will you do?” yours truly had to ask.

“I will jump on my cycle and you run, and we will both go very fast to Ammuma’s house!”