Mum, Dad and (unfortunately)me.

The day of School farewell programme.

I had a test at some tuitions and so entered home quite late,say about eight. Mum immediately made a beeline towards me.
"How was it?Why are so this late?Did you have a proper lunch?" she asked. Michael Scumacher would have been so envious of her. He just drove fast.
"Good.Math test at sir's.I did." I, ofcourse, am used to it.
"Go take a shower and change, i'll fix u something to eat.", she said.
"Right."
I had my fill of tiffin complemeted by dry cake. Oh, did i mention that my mum had prepared a mixture and entrusted it in my hands because of my enthusiasm regarding cakes after reading a blog? She had instructed me to put it in the oven for a certain time and at a certain temperature and the stuff would come out in the form of a cake. I was probably not listening because T2 always has such lively comic strips. I think I confused the temperature with the time or maybe something completely different because what came out from the over looked like toast. i proudly went up to mum and told her i had made "dry cake". She was so proud that she said i had to be the first one to taste it. And so i did. It was(gulp!) interesting,yes.
And after that i sat on the middle of the bed with all the pages of the newspaper strewn around me. It always helps to get the most important news first-like how many goals rooney scored, and whether Leo Dicaprio was signing any new films. I suddenly noticed my dad eyeing me speculatively. I had an uneasy feeling.
My mum walked in and looked me straight in the eye.
"Rick, I have something to ask you."she said in a tone which made me wish i was anywhere else at that moment.
"Yes?" i said trying to sound grown up.I was wearing my oldest brown jumber with a big goofy flashing a toothy grin, trust me it was difficult to.
My dad smiled at me from the corner of the room. The feeling of unease was growing by the second.
"Who is your girlfriend? You arent getting up to anything improper are you?" she asked raising her eyebrows. i knew that my mum's vocabulary was a bit weak but really a word like preamble should be present in any vocabulary. Her fault.
"i-er-what? No!" i splutered indignantly.
"C'mon son, you can tell your dad everything!", offered my dad.
I immediately changed my stance.
"Course not. i havent got time for all this" i said a bit too cavalierly.
"Oh really?" said my dad, raising his eyebrows. Incidentally, both my mum and dad are highly accomplished eye brow raisers.
I saw my mum biting the insides of her cheek to prevent herself from laughing.
i went purple.I dont generally change colour but there was just something about the way they were looking at me. There is this thing about my parents that always make me feel like a chipmunk in front of them.
"Whats up folks? Why this question, all of a sudden?", I asked, frowning, trying to sound bored.
"No, i took your phone to make a call and found a most interesting sms that someone sent you. That piqued my interest and i just peeked into your inbox and..." she let the question hang.
My mind began to work overtime. What was in there? some stuff about music, tuition timings and...damn! Raktima had chosen that very day to tease me about well,someone and those SMS'es that monosij sent. Gosh! they couldnt have timed it worse!
"And so? There wasnt anything in there that suggested-"
"No, this was a complete shot in the dark." said my mum, rolling her eyes and playing with my mobile.
My dad couldnt take it any longer and began laughing. My face turned a fine shade of magenta. But i still maintained a straight face.
"Its sad Ma(i had switched from 'mum' mode to 'ma' mode) because you'r shot didnt hit the mark." i said with gritted teeth.
"Whats the name, anyway?" asked my dad, enjoying himself.
I decided to play it smart. I rattled of the names of all girls i know, dont know, want to know, don't want to know and even made up some. It amounted to 60.
"Take your pick." i finished.
I won that round. Both of them looked slightly bemused.But they recovered soon enough and with renewed vigour.
"Look son," began my dad,"i know you have grown up but..." and he lectured me about life, priorities, malicious people, opportunity, time, et cetra.
Mum just smirked throughout the lecture inspite of the mutinous looks that i threw at her. Whats up with them? They wind me up more than my friends do!
But she wasnt finished. She looked at me with an expression highly reminiscent of Chandralekha aunty, nose slightly turned up, eyes narrowed, corner of the lip twitching and a condescending tone and said what has become her trademark dialogue.
"i am your mum."
i went out grumbling. And then i came back grumbling.
"You really should give me some privacy,you know." i said accusingly. Ok,ok there was a pleading tone too.
Mum perused me thoughtfully and then murmured,"Fine."
I thought i heard wrong and blurted,"Er what?"
"I said, fine!"
"Oh!" i said,"yes ofcourse it is."
I was about to turn back when dad called again.
"Who sent the jokes?" he asked, smiling.
I didnt go purple, honestly. Just a subtle shade of light blue.
"Er, friend." i managed.
"Fine, go." he said.
I am considering bottling up the exquisite shades i turned and sell them. Anyone interested? 'Eau-de-mortification'. 50 bucks,no bargain.