The Dance of Joy

Our yardstick to measure Sidharth’s health well-being is by gauging his reaction when I come back from work in the evenings. In the event I am greeted by a tiny human being with arms flapping wildly, eyes twinkling mischievously and shrill screams of unadulterated elation, we know that all’s well with him. If the little chap is just sprawled on the couch, with eyes glazed over, blank stare and a blah look, then it’s prudent to assume that there’s something amiss with him. The evening ‘dance of joy’ is a routine that I look forward to everyday and no matters whatever kind of pathetic day it has been at work, the weariness just drains away. Screaming at the top of his voice, he runs in circles, I assume being excited at the prospect of me returning home, for a few minutes and then settles down with his demands for his slice of time me. Book readings, peek-a-boos, alphabet and poetry recitals, soccer and just running around the house much to Seemz consternation, continue till bedtime. And the next day brings the same routine, all over again. You will never hear me complain about falling into a rut with the Dance of Joy.

Gas for the drive home: $8

Starbucks Chai Latte: $3.72

Speeding Ticket: $90

Coming back home to the ‘Dance of Joy’: Priceless