Like A Pratha

The Indian pratha is one of KK's favourite food. Even here in Melbourne, we always have a pack of frozen prathas in our freezer and he has them regularly, usually as a snack after school.

The other day, KK used the pratha as a metaphor to describe himself. Crispy and even a little "chow ta" (burnt) on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside.

Here's the story: KK had a sleepover in school last Friday. It was organised for the Grade Twos to help them transit and prepare for overnight camping when they go to Grade Three. On Wednesday and Thursday, he fell ill with a bad stomach flu and skipped classes for two days. He went back to school on Friday and was alright the whole day. He even went for his usual swimming lesson after school. When I sent him to school at 6pm for the transition camp programme, he was happy and enthusiastic. But at mid-night, the school called, informing us that he's unwell and wants to come home.

The next night, we talked about it and I asked him what happened that night in school. I believed he probably had a bad digestion, given his still weak stomach. The school gave them a greasy sauage sizzle dinner and popcorn and he probably had too much running around with his friends. He then felt unwell, uncomfortable and that's when he really misses his mum. But KK claimed that it was the other way round. He missed me at night, causing him to feel like he wanted to vomit. My big baby stated that he can't be away from his family for more than 7 hours or he'll feel like crying. He also declared that he doesn't want any sleepovers anymore unless I'm around.

"So how come you're alright at school normally and when I come and pick you up, you don't show that you're happy and even seemed reluctant to go home?" I teased. That when he said he doesn't show it, like a pratha.