Forget about one-hand cooking. I have no fucking clue how some women morph into domestic divas with a toddler on the loose.
Big Byte, being the cool foo that he is, chopped and stashed all the veggies I’d need for a week’s worth of cooking while he headed to Bangalore for training. This way, I could look forward to more than the scrambled eggs and cereal I’d subsisted on the last time he was away – or so he thought.
I started off with lofty goals of making aloo gobi (yes, lofty). Ditched the idea of aloo when Nibbles got entangled in my laptop wire under a revolving chair. Gave up on grated ginger, sliced green chillies and freshly chopped garlic when he started to chew on the guacamole green crayon stolen from Chilis. When Nibbles knocked over the trash with an innocent (?) swing of his lil’ red baseball bat, I decided to fuck it all by dumping a heap of sambhar masala into the pan and yanking up the heat.
So cooking was clearly way above my league. My next bold move was taking a shower. There’s no way I could close the door on Nibbles (childproofing doesn’t really work – not for my kid anyway) and there’s no way I could let him in, considering the sparkle I detected in his eyes when he saw me operate the flush. Stumped in a Schrodingeresque dilemma, I took my momma’s advice – strapped him in his stroller and left him at the bathroom entrance. I did improvise though, with a song and dance routine that could certainly be interpreted as inappropriate and permanently scarring…but only after a certain age, I hope.
What really is that age when such privacy issues are a concern? I suppose since I’m still breastfeeding, keeping mum about the mammaries is not an option for the moment. In any case, I’m not a fan of the “shame-shame, puppy-shame” approach. But I’m also not the mom that lets her kid run naked midst the sprinklers at Central Park.
Anyways, point is, it worked like a charm. The gargle-singing, the jiggly-stretchmarked-belly dancing, the shower curtain peekabooing – momma clearly knows best. There Big Byte – I have learnt to shower without you. Uh..ok, this post is headed right to the gutter where it belongs.