Home

I wanted to do an entire post about why I love to travel and get away from home.

Till I stumbled upon a post about why I love to come home again.

Armaan, He of the Widest Grin, has a f.l.a.w. Yes, its a funny way to write that word, I know, but this is my unbelievably perfect baby we are talking about and well.. I can’t put it out there so.. so there.

Anyway, the f.l.a.w. is the inability to apologize. To say sorry and give a hug. Now, this is only difficult when he is the thwacker/ the puncher/the pincher. He’s only two and half, but he has recognized the most fundamental of truths.

Apologizing is the biggest bitch when you are the wrong-doer. The one who hurt someone.

In other situations with other evil-doers, he’s empathetic and all over the hugging, the comforting and the pat-pat like he invented it.

In Casa de Where-The-Hell-Was-Prevention-When-I-Needed-It tonight, there was eye poking. The kind where the Leetl one socks it with his pointy finger to the eye of the Beeg one. Because he needed to learn a lesson or something.

Wailing ensues and we admonish Armaan sharply.

” Say sorry.”

“Si unnskyld.”

The bilingual berating fell flat and Armaan wriggled adorably, giggled inappropriately and stuck out his arms to us.

“Take me. Take Armaan. Wanna cuddle.”

“No,” we insist, because we are goddamn heroes made of iron and steel, “Not until you apologize to your brother. Say sorry.”

Standoff time.

After 5 minutes and using up the Gawd-I’m-so-damn-adorable-how-DO-you-stay-mad-at-me card, he turns to the Quivering Lips. The Moistened Lashes. Lower Lip threatening to quiver all the way into his perfect chin.

He takes us for total amateurs, really.

This goes on till Arvind, past tears now, sits up and speaks gravely.

“Armaan, I know you don’t like to say sorry, so just give me a hug, ok? And we’ll pretend this never happened. Come to me.”

Armaan, past the initial “Dude, think another think, yo” indifference crawls over pillows into his brother’s arms for a hug.

And then, “Sowwy, Adoo. Sowwy.” we hear him whisper ever so softly.

” ‘S okay.” says Beeg.

If I’m ever lucky enough to croak in peace, then I want this moment to remember. The way it tugged, melted and re-set itself into my lining.

I want to remember how much I loved their love for each other.

12 Comments

Filed under Armaan, Arvind

12 responses to “Home

  1. AAAAAWWWWWWW.
    now I want Goosh to have a sibling. Just for this kinda aaaw moment!

  2. Awwww…yeah, makes up for the gazillion sibling fights before the hug.
    *goes off to separate her warring duo*

  3. Kids are so sweet and uncomplicated. This sounded like the daily drama here as well. The elder ones are such suckers and the younger ones know how to take advantage of it to the hilt :-)

  4. Awwww! I think these kids say “sowwwy” with that “w” sound just to make us turn into jelly. Btw wrt header pic, his curls got cut? Not fair!

  5. Awwwww, awwww, and more awwwww!
    A huge hug to their mommy for posting this:)

  6. Devi

    Such a cute story. Arvind sounds like an excellent older brother, and Armaan is absolutely adorable.

  7. precious!sibling love-lurve it!

  8. :)

    can feel the love all the way!!

  9. Awww…now I am off to burn the protection around my place.

  10. Chooch

    Awwwwww,they are too sweet-tiny terror and chettan …love ‘em!

  11. Mom Gone Mad

    To all: Thanks for the comments:-)

  12. Sue

    Awww

    In our house, the toys get prompt apologies should they be allowed to fall down or whatever but if Vicky or I happen to consider we deserve an apology, well, we can just wait a very long time.

    That puts us in our place, I suppose.

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