Why do grown-up children find it extremely challenging to talk to their mothers politely?
I can't stand my mother. I hate her advice. I dislike teaching her to operate her mobile. Her food choices are exasperating. She's snail-paced and takes loo breaks every 10 minutes. She wants me to color my hair which I won't.
I'm being incredibly patient with my mother. I suppress the urge to scream at her. I play her favorite old film songs for her whenever possible. I try to cook the way she wants whenever she visits. I help her cross the road. I won't straighten my curly hair again because it pains her.
Sometimes I forget that she knows me better than I know myself. I can never really surprise her, can I? I see that she's very proud of me; not always, but most of the time. I know that she counts on me as her firstborn. And I am the nicest. Then, why do I need to make a huge effort to be sweet to her?
My children bark and howl at me. They laugh at my choices. Pepper thinks I have had a boring life and still have one. Mirchi hates to help me figure out the workings of this darned laptop.
Vicious circle? I know!
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