How To Deal With Kids(?)

Dear Upa,

                 My entire existence thus far has been a lie.

I thought I didn’t like children. Not not like, I mean, I didn’t know what to do with them.

A plant? I can probably handle it. A rock? No problem. A puppy? YES PLEASE.

But a baby? What do you do with it? Where do you put it? 

On top of that, they’re ridiculously noisy and anyone who says a screaming baby is cute is either high on drugs or lying. And children tell you if they don’t like you, they don’t even have the decency to lie, and I can’t deal with people not liking me, so I can’t deal with kids.

So, basically, I guess I never really hated kids, even the super annoying ones that run around and scream, they just made me really uncomfortable.

That was, until my dad called guests over. AND THEY BROUGHT THEIR CHILDREN.

I was horrified. I don’t know what they were expecting when they brought their children, to be honest. What were they supposed to do between dads getting drunk and moms discussing maids? Get bored, that’s what. 

And my dad knew that, I saw it in his eyes, mingled with a sheepish, apologetic look as he shuffled three children into my room as I was sitting in front of my economics textbook pretending to study.

There was nothing he could do, he was stuck. But not nearly as stuck as I was.

There were three kids, an eighth grade boy who was taller than 6ft so like wot and two girls, who were sisters, in seventh and second grade. A second grader was in my room and I was supposed to entertain her for 3 hours.

My world came crumbling down around me. It would be bad enough if they were my age, but these were children. I panicked.

And I don’t know if it was the panic, or the relief that no one started crying (except me, but that was internal) or the fact that we actually managed to talk for 3 whole hours, but I didn’t have the worst time in the world. It was… it was fun.

The children were actually pretty cool. The elder kids loved Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, which made things a whole lot easier. They also loved dogs, and they told me about the gossip in their classes which I found cute. I got them food and we ate Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans and laughed at each other when someone ate bad ones. I only got Candy Floss, Cherry, Banana, Tooti Frooti and Marshmallow, so my luck was great. The boy tried all the yucky ones and the little shit even fed me a vomit flavour, and I will never trust him again. They were also hilarious, I died laughing on several occasions, we played games and they're honestly adorable. I love cute people. Especially the small one. She told me that a boy told her he loved her and I laughed and asked what she replied, and she said she wanted to take her sister’s tennis racquet and beat him up. She’s seven. 

I poked her cheek several times and wrapped her in a blanket and wiped her face when rasmalai dribbled down it, and it was only when I was washing my hands in the sink that I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered what I had become.

And it wasn’t one-sided. My dad came in at one point and asked the kids, “Is Aditi didi taking good care of you?”, and they all yelled “YES!!!” loudly, and you didn’t hear it from me, but I think my heart swelled with happiness.

I think I’m a child myself and I find kids way more relatable than I find most people my age. 

I think, miraculously, in the 3 hours full of fries that got eaten up by 12 year olds before I could get my hands on them and a seven year old doing ballet in the middle of my room and a lot of toilet related jokes, I realised that I don’t hate kids, and kids don’t hate me.

My entire existence thus far has been a lie, and I think I don’t really mind.

Bye for now, 

Aditi.