Guilt...

So, yesterday, you got a flavour of guilt - the oh so 'eating your insides' guilt!

We were playing with Google assistant, confusing it with crazy questions. Asking, what is the most beautifulest butterfly in the world, where is the nearest restaurant, where is the most beautfulest butterfly etc. And we awed at the accuracy with which G.A could convert our voices to text.

Very enthusiastically, you uttered the word stupid in the context of a question. Bad timing. I asked you if you did use the word. You admitted. And we talked about never using the word again (I know you will eventually use it, but I just think this is too early for curse words).

The evil me used this guilt episode to cajol you into doing the worksheets. Two lines into the worksheet, you put on the most meltable face and said, "Amma, romba bad -a feel panraen", with tears welling up, fighting back those tears. I almost vanished into thin air with that. 

Then we hugged. Then you went back to your writing table, took three deep breaths. On prodding, you said that's what they told on TV. And just like that the scene merged into normalcy.

Love you loads, dear, dear dearest boy!