Of all things, I never thought I'd hear that Daddy was not my father, from my son!
Daddy occupies pride of place on our bedroom wall, in our current house. In between nude prances on the bed post his bath, or when getting pyjama'ed for bed, Sonny boy occasionally gives his Achacha fond looks and asks me what Achacha is saying. This because, when he is being particulary naughty/cute, both of which are pretty frequent, I tell him that Achacha is frowning/smiling. And I go on to make up an imaginary conversation with my Dad where the subject of the conversation is Sonny boy....
The other night, we were getting ready for bed. Or rather, I had been telling Sonny boy for the last one hour that it was time for bed...with zilch positive response. Finally, when I'd reached the limits of my patience, I glared at him with arms akimbo.
When he asked me, "What is he saying?"
Since there wasn't anyone in the room other than me n him, I asked "Who?"
"He!" And looking up at my Dad's photo affectionately, he asked, "What is his name?"
It struck me that it was rather remiss of me to not have told my son his Achacha's name till now. Shooting an apologetic look at my Dad, I said, "Krishnan" and pulled Sonny boy towards me to put on his pyjamas.
"No! I am talking about that man. Your father!"
He pulled away from me and pointed at Dad's photo, and looked at me.
My eyebrows going up into my head, and shooting an exasperated look at my Dad, I said, "Yeah, I know! My father's name is Krishnan."
With an indignant push, he glared at me.
"That's not your father's name!"
I wondered who had been telling him WHAT stories...
"Your father's name is Achacha!"
15 minutes ago