Friday, 16 June 2017

The hand that rocks the cradle.


               She waved the note with a pride that dripped from every pore of her being, and a smile that gave her a haughty look.  Her friends, who  lounged on the expensive couch of her expensive home, oohed and aahed over her little one's thoughtfulness.

"Mother,
         Please be careful when you step into my bedroom -  the floor might be wet.  I had to answer the phone when I was having my bath."

           
               "Do you see how considerate, how caring my boy is?!" she proclaimed pompously.  "And," she continued in the same breath, "there isn't a  thing he would do without informing me about it! There isn't a single word he would utter without prior consultation with me! And, have you seen the house? Not even a pin is out of its  place! At times, people wonder if I even have a child at home!"  She blew her trumpet loud into the faces of those present. "Now, that's what's called 'upbringing', you see?"

           The ladies gushed over every word that fell from her painted mouth, leaving her in a state of ecstasy that would stay on for quite a while. They knew there would be more visitors before whom her son would be paraded, and whose virtues be extolled of till they could take  it no more! Some among her friends,  envied her, and some were overawed by her parenting skills. But, there was one among them who knew the facts. For, it was she who sniggered, albeit furtively. And, no sooner had they stepped out of the gilded mansion than she whispered, a cunning smile playing on her lips.

           "God knows, and so do I, the truth behind it all, girls! The wee lad ain't thoughtful or loving or anything as she claims him to be. She rules her roost with an iron fist. I have witnessed it, from behind the lacy curtain that veils the truth behind that facade! She lashes the poor boy with a stick she keeps well hidden from the public eye! Oh yes, she does! And, not only the boy, but, believe it or not, the husband, too, is at the receiving end of the pastings!" Ms. Tattletale announced to her stunned audience.

           "The husband, too! OMG!" squealed the others in unison.

              "Oh, yes, he and the lad obey her commands to a T.  They have been trained to sit, stand, walk, talk, eat and breathe by that she-devil! Not a thing can be  moved about without her permission, not a word is to slip out of their pitiful mouths without her stamp of approval! And, that's why the note, for she had warned the boy of dire consequences if he dared dirty her Italian marble! Tch tch, the atrocities she inflicts on the poor soul...souls! Ah! I would take them in anytime they knocked on my door. My heart goes out to them. Especially the husband. He receives a fat paycheque, you see!" she winked and  burst out laughing.

         
   
            

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