Maya’s head had been pounding the whole day, she had had a sleepless night. Mohit had been coughing and waking up from sleep every hour. Whom would she tell that to at work? Meetings after meetings, she sailed through. Coffee after coffee kept her going.
The traffic jam in the most unusual place left her frustrated for more than two hours. Her head was being hammered to such an extent, she felt nauseous.
She reached home to find newspapers thrown around the house, toys strewn in every corner, she sighed and went to the kitchen to make herself another cup of coffee.
The flour filled kitchen floor was the last thing she had imagined. “SONUUUUUU”, she yelled her son’s name almost fighting tears of anger.
The four year old sensing she was angry, came walking in behind his grandpa. He slowly peeped from behind his grandpa's legs, he was covered from head to toe in sketch pen ink. She could not handle it anymore, she burst out crying.
He slowly walked up to her, wiped her tears and said, “Please don’t cry Mumma, sorry I feeling naughty today. Tomorrow I be nice. Please don't cry"
She smiled and hugged him tight.