The Circle of Life

I wrote a post on the tension and drama that unfolds when my parents take a flight out of my house. I usually call them paranoid, over-cautious and needlessly edgy, among other things.

Now in order to complete the picture I need to put on record what usually happens when I take a flight with my family, i.e. husband and kids.

6 30 am:

Me - Wake up kids! We have a flight to catch!
Them - The flight is only at 9 30. The airport is only ½ hour away! Don't be paranoid! (rings an uneasily familiar bell)

6.45 : Another attempt to wake up kids

7.00 : The laborious process of rising and shining commences

7.30 : Debate on the merits and demerits of jacket A vs jacket B ensues between kid A and kid B. It doesn’t matter that we are going to a place where the heat makes jackets redundant.

8.00 : Books, toys, puzzles, travel games and numerous other things that have never seen the light of day in our house are packed in the hope of seeing the light of day in another city.

8.15 The last of the stuffed toys still remaining in the kids’ shelf is stuffed into the already overflowing suitcase.

Did I mention it is a 1 week holiday? Seeing their empty room and the size of their suitcase, one would never guess.

8.30 : Merits of drinking milk vs. threat of being left behind are weighed before milk is drunk

8.35 : All set to go. Door is finally shut. Oops, one large suitcase is still inside

8.40 : Suitcase is successfully retrieved, along with 1 kid, who we guiltily realized had also been left inside.

8.45 : We are ready to depart, finally!

Did I mention the flight was at 9.30  ?

Whether or not we made it to that flight is irrelevant. The obvious take-out from this story is that no flight in my life has ever been and will ever be uneventful.

The less obvious but more important take-out is my realisation that what goes around comes around this quickly.

I thought I had reached that 'know-it-all' stage in life which allows me to go around telling my parents what do and how to do it. But what I had no way of knowing is that my children would beat me at my own game, some 30 years too soon.

I need to take urgent lessons from my parents on the fine art of tolerating impetuous and reckless children. After all, they have had over 35 years of experience at it, haven't they?

The kid who never learns

I have a disciplined, retired Government servant for a father who extends that discipline to all walks of life – be it drinking his morning cuppa at 6 am sharp everyday, maintaining a record of telephone bills paid for the last 15 years, or something as mundane as taking a flight.

I, on the other hand am a reckless being, and a particularly reckless traveller - mishaps and misadventures of every kind have a personal bonding with me. Talk of missed flights, wrong trains, wrong dates, expired passports – name it and I have been there, done that.

What happens when said disciplined father and his wife spend a few days at reckless daughter’s place? The tension in the air is palpable most of the time and reaches volcanic proportions as stay draws to a close.

The preparation for their departure usually starts two days before the actual journey, about the same time I think about booking tickets, if I am travelling. Clothes are packed. Clothes for the journey are set aside. Speculation on what food might be served on the flight and whether it will be palatable or not constitutes a substantial part of the day’s conversation.

The atmosphere on the morning of the journey is nothing short of a mini-event. The lights are on at 4 30 am. (It doesn’t matter that flight is only at 11am). Sooner or later, willy-nilly, the entire household is up. Endless cups of coffee have already been consumed by 6 am. Breakfast is consumed at 7 am, as there needs be a decent gap between this and the meal on board.

At 7 15 they are all set to leave

‘But the flight is only at 11 and the airport is ½ hour away’ I try to reason

‘We don’t mind being a tad early’ comes the firm reply

‘ You are not early. You are paranoid’ I bite

‘We are not like you. We don’t like missing flights’ comes the stinging response.

Oh! A raw nerve has been touched. Small fight ensues, but I should know that is not about to alter decision. The sequence of events that follow :
1. 6.30 - Bags are out of the room.
2. 6.45 - Bags reach the front door.
3. 7.00 - Disciplined government servant and his compliant wife reach the front door.
Between 7.00 and 7.15
4. Tickets that have been re-checked are re-re-checked.
5. Bags that are locked are unlocked and relocked for better safety.
6. Kids that have been kissed are rekissed.
7. Last minute advice that was previously doled out is re-doled out.
8. Finally, there is just enough time for a quick last minute fight.

Now they have to be let go, for everyone’s sanity.I shut the door after them, only to realise that the tickets after the nth recheck are left behind on the dining table, thanks to my last minute fight!

Sprinting skills (non-existent so far) are put to test before tickets are somehow reached to the over-cautious travellers. Whew!

Parents reach the airport as intended -  2 hours early.

Parents happy.

Me fuming : why do they prefer airport lounges to the comfort of my home?

Kid wondering (aloud ) :Why do you always fight with your parents when they are here? And then why do you cry after they leave? If you fight so much, shouldn’t you be happy when they leave?

Its because some relationships are beyond logic and reason...And some children, however grown up, will never learn...