Face to face


ok..the title of the post does not remotely capture what i want to describe here…

we were chatting at the dining table yesterday – the twins and I – when suddenly Sid announced in his typical style “i want like Nish” I wasn’t quite sure what he wanted…the T-shirt, Nish’s shorts (since Sid almost instantly covets anything Nish chooses…a constant source of post bath wars) ..so i firmly said – “NO..you need to be OK with what you have worn now. We can’t keep changing clothes all the time” But i want like Nish” he insisted. “You want what like Nish?” i tried to clarify not in the remotest expecting the reply that followed: “his face! i like Nish’s face Aai! I want to be Nish” Not at all sure where this was coming from i prodded (especially as Sid can be extremely vain about his looks and really chooses his clothes and combs his hair, etc) “What is it that you like about his face love?” “Everything…his eyes, his ears, his mouth, his hair”. 

But sweetheart, you have a gorgeous face too! You are so handsome” I said. “Yes Sid”, Nish interjected, “I love your eyes and cheeks and hair and even your thumb (which is often in his mouth)”

“Okay” said Sid as he mulled over this for a bit. “But who decided???” he asked in a bit. I was engrossed in my newspaper by now and it took me a few seconds to refocus. “Who decided what?”

“Who decided which one gets which face?” 

“Yes” Nish joined in. “Who made the face actually?”

I wish i could answer that but how do you break down genetics to such a rudimentary level? And even then, how do you explain probability? I took the easy way out…”I think God may have done it but i am not quite sure” I said. 

Anyone who has a better idea how this can be addressed the next time it crops up.

As an aside, i need to be more mindful of whether someone else is complimenting one child and not the other or whether this was a general line of enquiry. 


About myfourboysandme

Mom - a word that defines me... I smell of oats, johnson's and home baked cookies I am pink, purple, green and orange and so is the floor my kids color on. Flour on my clothes and a brush in my pocket, my glasses bent out of shape and smudged with tiny fingerprints. I can't remember the date but i know almost 40 pictures books by heart. I wake up humming 'wheels on the bus'and i talk with my fingers and eyes and mouth. My bag carries band aids, napkins, wipes, crayons, papers, candy and sometimes my wallet. I know all the parks and very few of the restaurants in my neighborhood. Most of my shopping is diapers, books and paints My phd certificate lies in a roll, the frame now contains an abstract work of art by two year olds and i am prouder of that piece of paper. mom - a word that defines me!

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