Conversation At A Playground

The brat has two pals he mainly hangs out with. He’s closer to one of them and with the other, he’s not feeling the love much of late.

Yesterday while waiting for one of the favorite aunties to come down with the kite and string, the threesome were having this serious conversation:

G: Hey! Where’s your mom K? I want to fly my kite. My mumma said to wait for her.
K: I don’t know where Diana Aunty is. She probably got lost.
S: She not got lost K. She must be getting ready to come to the park.

G: K, why do you call your mumma Diana Aunty?
K: cycling fast..I call my mother Diana Aunty because that’s her name. I call your mother Rikati Aunty.
G: My mother’s name is RITIKA…not Rikati!
K: RIKATI RIKATI RIKATI!! *goes whizzing by on his cycle again*
S: MY mother’s name is Ayanti, my father’s name is Prashant. I call my mother Ayu. I call my father Prash.

G: You’re not supposed to call your mumma and papa by their name! Say mumma and papa! *with a serious look on his face*

Me: Ok boys, enough. Let’s go fly the kites.
Boys: Ok..let’s go! With promises of how high the kites are going to fly buzzing in the background.
S: in a stage whisper to me” Ayu I want to tell you something…I gonna call you Ayu and Prash as Prash ok?”

I nod and wink in compliance while a little boy keeps cycling away singing RIKATI RIKATI and another runs after him saying stop that! She’s RI-TI-KAA!!

Ah..the things which vex us when we’re still kids:)

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