Reveries Of A Child Wife

Illuminating winter sunlight, forlorn snowflakes glistening starry bright. Milky white turn the meadows and the barren trunks. The grasshopper clacks and buzzes in search of  an utopian land where Spring never ceases to radiate its captivating charm. Look at that Liverpool schoolboy. Pretension of an abdominal ache failed to elude the mother’s eye. Dispirited, he opts for the least favored path of academia. The bus jolts and those tiny fingers are almost within the grip of frost bite; but hey! With an extra pair of gloves and a munchkin smile, there she is! To vanquish his plight :) While the Liverpool little one’s school amour makes headway, my over the phone chatter with mom just comes to an end. As one of my most salivated Chicken recipes of hers comes out of the bag, there tinkles my reminder bell! Yepppiiiii!!! The man you share your life with is just a few hours away from you. 'This week  flew quicker than I ever knew' -  murmurs the arctic gust. As a temporary confessional salvation of my aesthetic self, I hereby state - renouncing most of the scenic pleasures during the weekends, my Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays are consumed only and only with the unstoppable lens following us…Oh, how those pictures and videos more or less encapsulate all those hugs, snuggles, kisses and sighs before Monday approaches. As though, my power of intention joins hands with my utter contempt to keep the chauffeur at bay. Alas! Likewise the Liverpool school toddler, I fail to bribe and beat time. With eyes wide open, reality engulfs me and my checklist of desires that revolves around this single soul who means everything to me. Ooops Desires! Burning like fireflies! Can't they come true before Thursday evening? :) Oh wait! The cab driver is already here with a placard of punctuality to drop my husband at the airport. Ironically, the flight to Toronto surely wouldn’t budge an inch from taking off on its scheduled time. Phew! The delayed return doesn't perturb my man anymore or fail to amuse him either. More often than not it entices me to burgle into the technically bizarre navigator’s excuse zone and turn the entire Air Traffic Control into a pseudo Aladdin with that one extra wish on his lamp that could bring my man back to me in a blink :)

I lay my head on his chest trying to treasure the rhythm of his heartbeat, the way he holds me, kisses me on the head, his laughter and his perfume. Sooner or later it’s the beep of his text on my phone. He is at the boarding gate. Huhh! My catnap stealer! Ruthless technology – knocks me down in disillusionment – Sigh…I pillowed my head on a mare feathery cradle. Where are those gentle hands holding mine and not wanting to let go even for a microsecond? Brushing my lips away briskly against his to utter “I love You” fifty times a day and still questioning whether I have said it enough :)
Ahh well, at some point during almost every Wednesday reverie, the woman of the house suddenly trips and falls, stumbling helplessly over something ridiculous like a leaf in Adam and Eve’s orchard. Just in the nick of time the man of the house appears all armored as the Medieval Knight of Honor to save her or is clumsily pulled down along with her through the hedge. That event predictably leads to the magical moment of a passionate smooch. Please. I fall ALL the time. Not in his arms, but on a soft expanse right from the warm bed. What a quivering rise to a buoyant morning. Thanks to that celestial body who invented Thursdays. I don’t always have a ticket to avail the time machine and return to his cuddles :)