What Rubbish!!!

Divya's almost four now, and looking back at whatever little memory I have left of myself at that age (Chief among them being going for an interview to a school and being asked to identify an aubergine), I was a pretty co-ordinated almost-four-year-old. So, why is it that the things she does and says never cease to surprise me. Put it down to a father's outlook, but is n't it too early for my little girl to use big words like 'perhaps', 'certainly', or even 'knuckles' for that matter. 

For instance, the other day, on getting back home from the grocery store, she waddled up to the front door, crooked her finger and started knocking. Then she promptly turned to me and started - 

'Papa, you know, when you make your finger like this, and hit the door with your knuckles (gasp) its called knocking!'

Shocked that she could describe knocking so effectively, i asked her who told her this.

'My mum, the old lady.' She told me.

'Mum teaches you some good stuff doesn't she?' I asked her.

'Yes she does.' She smiled. 

'What about me? what do I teach you?' I asked her, hoping to take some of the credit.

'You teach me all rubbish.' She said and marched into the house. 

Its an example of a little thing she knows... and she does know a lot of things... and it gets me thinking about how exactly she knows things that neither Shonali nor I have taught her... 

she clearly is more observant than most children I have come across... so much so, that I have come to rely upon her to tell me where seemingly lost things are... glasses, keys, wallet, lighter... anything missing, and all I have to do is ask:

'Divu, have you seen my __________', and every single time, I have found myself pointed in the right direction... 

I can't get over the fact that she has grown so much so soon. I find myself already having reached that phase in parenting when one starts reminiscing about how little their baby was when they came into this world... its all a little surreal. 

Your mind stays in that zone, where the doctor got the nineteen inch bundle for you to hold for the first time, but standing in front of you is actually a coherent 4 year old, who can construct sentences, do simple addition, hum a tune, recite the method required to make a chicken curry and identify classical music. 

The more time I spend with her, the more time I want to spend with her. I hate more than anything, to drop her off to school in the mornings... the three hours I have without her in the mornings are three of the longest hours in the world. Especially when, I know what an ordeal it has been just to get her into school. Shonali says that she was the same as well. Hated going to her school, and once threatened her parents with suicide if they sent her... Divu is the same way... She hates going to school. And I hate leaving her there, crying, like that.

But then, If I wouldn't drop her, then i wouldn't get to pick her up, which is te highest point of my day, everyday. See, when I go to pick her up, she's generally sitting in the circle, looking lost, in her own world... and then she sees me, and her eyes light up like two 100W bulbs, she gets up and runs towards me, and hugs me... She can't contain herself... Neither can I, because it reassures in me, that even though I give her so much misery in the mornings, she spends her days waiting for me, and when I see her, she unashamedly proclaims that she loves me... And I have a sneaky feeling that she knows exactly what love is... and ultimately it all boils down to one thing... I might be teaching her rubbish, but at least its the right kind of rubbish.