There is clear logic, water logic and there’s…mummy logic. My parents never gave me the ‘stork delivered you’ routine but I have serious reason to believe that I might have been an express delivery that landed on the wrong planet. Mum and I have weird conversations. Sometimes I feel like we’re talking two different languages that have the same words but mean completely opposite things to each of us. Other times I suspect that I’m caught in the wrong dimension with a super-intelligent species that only can’t figure out why this lab rat ain’t running towards the cheese (it stinks!!!)
Thankfully however, I have recently discovered that I am not the only one facing this unique situation. Mummies are custom-made but in the same grand Mummy Factory. As a matter of fact I have several maters…there’s P’s mumma, P herself, J (who is the mummy that waggles her finger and looks on disapprovingly at all that I do), J’s ma and my very own mummy.
I will now proceed to report some instances of mummy logic…
On pedigreed husbands
Mummy: He’s from XYZ institute and then ABC school!
Me: So? Will that make him a good husband?
Mummy: So? Will that make him a bad husband?
Me: It might. He might be too stuffed with himself. Why should I marry a man with a pedigree?
Mummy: Why shouldn’t you? I did.
‘Waste not want not’
P’s mumma: Who is your boyfriend, now?
Me: No one, aunty.
P’s mumma: Don’t lie to me! I know you!
Me: Honest. There’s no one at the moment
P’s mumma: Okay, when are you getting married?
Me: When I find a guy.
P’s mumma: But why can’t you marry Dee?
Me: He doesn’t want to be married and I don’t want to marry him.
P’s mumma: Then make him your boyfriend!
Me: But why?
P’s mumma: So you can marry him!
“My life’s sole desire!”
Mummy: I just want to see you married. That is my life’s only desire. Then I will be happy.
Me: You said that when I was in school too. Only then it was about my 10th standard marks. And then you said your last wish was to see me in college, then to graduate, then post-graduate, get a job, get promoted.
Mummy: Well, what’s wrong with wanting the best for you?
Me: Nothing. Except I’m getting it all in good time.
Mummy: If you don’t get married quickly, all the good men will be gone!!!
Me: So I’ll find a bad man. Or perhaps a divorcee or a widower. Or maybe a good woman.
Mummy: Oh god….just marry a man, will you?
Me: I’ll try
Mummy: It is my life’s only desire.
Me: And after that it will be kids, their grades, college, career and then their weddings.
Mummy: Well, what’s wrong in wanting the best for your family?
On telephone conversations
J’s ma: How long you been on the phone?
J: Ma….not again!!!!!!!!!!
J’s ma: You’re talking to Idea again? Didn’t you call her 10 minutes back?
J: Yes, yes, YES. And I’m not talking to her again. Its the same call.
J’s ma: Tell her to go to sleep. And you too. Its too late!
J: Nooooo….let us be!
J’s ma: Be afraid of God, the two of you…the way you carry on!
J: *hee hee*
Beauty is skin-deep, child!
Another mummy (AM): I don’t understand you girls these days, not getting married!
Me and her daughter: No good men around
AM: What do you look for? What was wrong with that last guy?
Her daughter: Ma, he looked like Billy Bunter!!!!
AM: Arre beta, looks don’t matter. When I was your age, I wanted to marry Rajesh Khanna. And see, I married your father instead.
Give me the strength to change what I can…
Me: No, no, no…for the last time, absolutely NO!!!!!!!!!!
Mummy: But why?
Me: Gawd, if his mustache isn’t an instant turn-off, the man wants a maidservant/nursemaid with a degree!
Mummy: But you can always get him to shave off his mustache after marriage!
There is a clear case of Mummy Logic when progeny reaches adulthood, especially when it comes to the holy ‘M’ subject (*in hushed tones* M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E). Mummies believe that:
- Prince Charming was a loser. Kings and Emperors only need apply for the hand of their fair princesses.
- All fair (and unfair) princesses over the age of 22 have to be married asap.
- Saying the same thing over and over again will eventually make it come true.
- Daddies do not know a thing about their daughters. Actually that may be true since daddies appear to either slink away or turn into mummies when the subject of marriage rolls around.
- Daughters need protecting till they’re 22 or so and then they need to be unleashed on the world. Sons in contrast need to be molly-coddled till they can be handed over to another mummy-figure for more molly-coddling.
- Mummies can juggle family budgets, listen to their friend’s woes, advise neighbor on how to make rasam, argue with the milkman and harrangue unmarried daughter about getting married….all at the same time. But they do not understand how daughter in question manages to study, listen to friend’s woes, advise study partner/colleague, argue with boyfriend and fight with mummy at the same time.
- Mummies can carry on three conversations in parallel. One in each ear and one with their tongues. And when daughter is on phone, they expect her to use her free ear to listen to them.
But who says mummies only think of marriage? Mummy logic also creeps into my social life, my health habits and daily routine. My mum thinks sitting at the computer too long will ruin my eyes. So she enthusiastically calls me to
“Let’s watch TV together!!”
There’s always the kicker that puts an end to all arguments…
When you are a mother, you will understand!!!!
But I won’t be nasty. When it comes to sarcasm, Mom knows best!!!
Mum: Greetings, alien! I bear an invitation. You can be rude and reject it or you can be smart and accept it. We request the pleasure of your company for lunch at the dining table. Get off your butt and come, eat!!!!!
I rest my case and defer to mummy logic.