Thursday, April 12, 2012

Before I forget


The other day I read that absent-minded children are actually more intelligent. Their brains process many things at once. Yippeee, there’s hope for ours. Especially since I’ve been worried that with genes from S and me – they had no chance in life.

Niks’ first teacher complained he used to be walking along the pre-school wall when the other kids were chanting their ABCs. And Neel takes 25 minutes to walk from the gate up home – which should take a normal kid 2 minutes.

Let me dwell on us now. And why we’re worried. For those who don’t know S and me, that is.

I forget everything. And I can’t even blame it on ageing, because I was always this way. Last week, I threw S’s carefully prepared boiled eggs and toast into the sink, while I put a plate of egg shells before him. Ok, so I was in a hurry... but still...

I forget to phone people back, to pay bills, to collect payments, to put the recycling out, to sign the homework. And S is no better. His spectacles are legend! They always lose their way. When he’s rushing out to work, the house needs to go on a hunt – above the bar cabinet, in the laundry basket, in the trouser pocket, on the newspaper pile – no, no, no....I last saw it there, no here, no – where did you last keep it ? If I knew, it wouldn’t be lost, would it?

The other day, I went on a hunt for the sugar jar – it wasn’t in the food cabinet, not in the fridge, not in the microwave... I informed everyone that white sugar was poison!!!! And they would have to bear the bitter jitters from now on... till I found Neel’s school belt neatly rolled up near the tea jar. Aha! So, naturally I walked to the school uniform shelf  – and voila – the sugar jar in all its sweetness, was sitting neatly on the white shirts. It’s probably as absent-minded as the rest of us are.

I know it’s normal for everyone to take a while to realise they’re married and settle in and all – but S and I regularly locked ourselves in or out of our house in the early days. Is that normal?

Now – the good news – who cares if it’s normal? It’s a sign of intelligence! Read the report! Yippeee. So when I send Niks to get my book from the bedroom, and I find him 10 minutes later, following the path of an ant up the stairs – I won’t have a breakdown.  No – I’ll say, ‘Niks, you may lose your way, and your memory, and your spectacles and your wallet, and even your job some day... what a very intelligent thing to do!’

7 comments:

  1. ROFL!!!!
    Now your posts are turning to be a better floor cleaner than our maid...I guess she will start to bug you to write more often ;)

    Amazing post as ever Jane...I wish I could say there was some hope for me...getting locked outside the hostel room was so much a norm that I used to keep a hammer/big stone in my hostel wing...it was quite handy. Hammer used to get lost on its own so stone was proving to be better over a period of time.

    I keep running into walls, bed, fridge, cabinet, flower vases...all sort of stationary objects...if you ever come across a study that attributes some nice thing like creativity(ahem ahem) to this hopeless condition of mine...please let me know. ;) ;)

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    1. puja - will find you an article that proves that your condition is actually symbolic of great intelligence too. :) - must remember to find it - before i forget.

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  2. I wish Howard Gardner knew it...will be a part of school curriculum as well..:)

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  3. You forgot to write in your blog. We are waiting !

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  4. HMMM..really, I see my kids absentminded as well, makes me light hearted to read this article, while you know me. Anal and remember everything to the last bit. Although of late I will blame things on mother hood that I tend to forget myself as well. Nice post jane. Will begin to let go a little, a bit more or completely is the question

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  5. Very honest comment, Archana Doshi. :) I guess I'm just trying to disguise my own disorganized personality traits as glamorously absent-minded. :) - and yes, I have no problem letting go. I have a problem later of finding what I've let go.

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