No, I did not join the 'LOVE the garlic bread of Domino's' group on Facebook, yet I named my blog cheesy dip, because I love this pungent, squishy-squashy goey goodness. Ofcourse, we all also love to be cheesy at some point in our lives and this blog will talk about good food and not-so-good after-taste of real-life experiences.
Well, ever since I've heard the joke that Indian women get afflicted mostly by two things, namely AIDS and MAIDS, I can agree no less. Once I'm done with my blue-collar work and reach home, on a Friday evening, the domestic help stretches her arms and laments, 'your little imp poked her fingers in electric sockets today....did not eat the parantha...had kurkure instead.....also...she went to the bathroom and emptied a pail of water over herself (hyperbole?)....blah..blah..."
I pacify her, "Why don't you take rest for a while.... Did you have tea?"
She stings, "Huh? yes...I gulped it cold..I was busy running after your child....Do you want anything..? Tea, coffee...she asks dryly.
Ofcourse, I pick up my bundle of energy, and never really manage to sit peacefully for the next two days. Yes we do get to sleep in the nights though..If we are lucky, a movie or two on DVD, is also thrown in the busy schedule. Amid soiled diapers, many feeding attempts, ever-growing baby shopping list and a few noisy guests, the precious weekend just breezes by.
On Monday morning, I plonk myself in front of the computer and call out for coffee. Soaking up this royal treatment before getting into the grind is a Maldives-like experience. Any working woman can vouch for this. The day ends, I reach home...and there goes the Queen ..."You know..I could not sleep in the afternooon today...your little imp........". Ouch. Not a very happy ending.
Well, ever since I've heard the joke that Indian women get afflicted mostly by two things, namely AIDS and MAIDS, I can agree no less. Once I'm done with my blue-collar work and reach home, on a Friday evening, the domestic help stretches her arms and laments, 'your little imp poked her fingers in electric sockets today....did not eat the parantha...had kurkure instead.....also...she went to the bathroom and emptied a pail of water over herself (hyperbole?)....blah..blah..."
I pacify her, "Why don't you take rest for a while.... Did you have tea?"
She stings, "Huh? yes...I gulped it cold..I was busy running after your child....Do you want anything..? Tea, coffee...she asks dryly.
Ofcourse, I pick up my bundle of energy, and never really manage to sit peacefully for the next two days. Yes we do get to sleep in the nights though..If we are lucky, a movie or two on DVD, is also thrown in the busy schedule. Amid soiled diapers, many feeding attempts, ever-growing baby shopping list and a few noisy guests, the precious weekend just breezes by.
On Monday morning, I plonk myself in front of the computer and call out for coffee. Soaking up this royal treatment before getting into the grind is a Maldives-like experience. Any working woman can vouch for this. The day ends, I reach home...and there goes the Queen ..."You know..I could not sleep in the afternooon today...your little imp........". Ouch. Not a very happy ending.
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