Dr.D, the guard and the fly

The terrific trifecta of superheroes has bailed my wife and me out of jams more times than I care to admit. We're not exactly proud of our deceptive strategies, but hey, it's one way to stay sane when N keeps us on our toes 24/7. 

I can't speak for B, but I've definitely self-certified as a professional ballerina. Kids are way smarter than we give them credit for, and N is currently making 700+ synaptic connections per second. It won't be long before she calls our bluff. We need to be prepared and up our game, but for now, we're milking this until the cows come home.

Introductions

Dr. D is N's pediatrician. We've convinced her that he sits in our lobby with a syringe, ready to be summoned whenever there's a food consumption crisis, excessive screen time, or toys that need picking up. We even make video calls to him (using a picture from the Internet) when there's a fuss about hydration. We almost got caught when N asked the doctor to clap for her, but we were saved by a sudden Wi-Fi disruption caused by 'The Guard.'

The Guard is the security guy in the lobby. N believes he's in charge of bath/shower durations and is also responsible for those sudden Wi-Fi disruptions.

The Fly, aka housefly, is the designated diaper inspector. It makes its presence known when diapers aren't put on after a bath. Some habits are genetically encoded, and she gets this one from me. I've had my share of quirks that drove people up the wall; my posts "Old Man" and "Things I Eat and How" are just the tip of the iceberg. I guess what they say is true: what goes around comes around. Karma at its finest.

I know the D-day will come when we can no longer get away with distractions and stories, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

B and I are still learning and will probably make every mistake possible. For now, we'll use these superheroes to bail us out. Eventually, we'll have to stop outsourcing and replace the terrific trio, becoming the dynamic duo.

Wonder Years

This year, my eldest sister, who is eight years older than I am, will soon reach a significant milestone in her life. She gets highly infuriated when I mention her age, and like any good brother, I respect that and do not mention her age. This year, I celebrated my 42nd birthday.

You've probably heard the phrase "third time's the charm," which explains my parents' quest for perfection and why they stopped trying when I was born. If you ever ask my sisters, they will grudgingly admit to kneeling down with their arms outstretched, praying for 'me.' This explains the immense love my sisters showered on me as a child.

To quote a few examples, my eldest sister once role-played a scene from a Hindi movie and left me at the doorstep of the neighboring building. There were also a couple of accidental drops and the time she 'accidentally' snipped off my eyebrow while giving me a haircut. I'm not saying these were attempts to get rid of me, just a series of sheer coincidences that point to that train of thought.

Being the only boy was like being an only child since I was way younger than my sisters. However, I was included in some of their games and got to play several important leading roles, like the detective dog in Famous Five, the beggar child, and a lamp post. I also played the part of the errand boy and a walking Uber for their friends when they had parties.

Mind you, on a few occasions, I have repaid the stoic spiritual sacrifice of my sisters. For instance, I ensured fame for my eldest sister by dressing up as Mary Lou Retton and performing a flawless somersault in front of her friends. I also selflessly allowed my other sister, the one who is not light-years older than I am, to read my college classic literature books. She was so grateful that she gave me her limited stock of bendy straws and blank cassettes. I deny any mention of a barter system involved.

I also splurged my hard-earned shady sticker business money on a delicious Chinese meal and monster chips, which were highly appreciated, consumed with delight, and then spewed moments later. I was appalled and tried to extort a refund, as she did not care to hold it down until it was digested. The fact that she was seriously ill was irrelevant at that time.

Over the years, my relationship with my sisters has improved considerably; I say this with conviction as I am still alive. My eldest sister, who is still 26.3 years old on Mars, has become wiser and more spiritual, and my other sister has become a multi-skilled, meticulous, talented mother. I, for one, will always be a reminder that God does have a sense of humor.