Bedtime Rituals of A Grownup Child

Did you just do a double take when you read the title of this post? ‘A Grownup Child’? Does that make me sound like one of those overgrown men in their forties who are forever stuck in adolescence?

Um sorry to disappoint, but no I’m not.

I’m an almost 21 year old (this is weird, but whenever I have to write down my age, I am almost about to write ’18’ before I realize that I’m not, in fact, 18. Just realised that makes me sound suspiciously similar to the man described above *shudders*), who is the younger of two sisters, and hence the baby of the family. Oh, and I realise that this night not be all that credible coming from me, but no, I’m not a spoilt brat.

At the moment, I’m living with my aunt, as my mum has gone abroad to be with my sister for a bit, and I just felt way too lonely to be at home all by my lonesome. But being without my mum (and by myself) for the first time in my life has made me really recognize all that she does for me, and how much I need her for every little thing. I don’t have anyone to button up my blouse for me now (the buttons are behind; hence they require some assistance), for crying out loud!

But the worst is when I go to bed each night without the sound of her ferociously typing away at the computer, and occasionally checking in to see whether I’m really asleep or awake reading books. That’s like my lullaby these days, and I miss it.

But speaking of bedtime rituals…

When I was younger, my mum and I used to have these bedtime rituals that, now that I look back I realise were rituals, but we never named them as such.

One of my oldest memories is of her singing me to sleep. She’d sing these Tamil songs from the oldies; the ones from Sivaji and MGR movies that had beautiful meanings. I might make fun of her by closing my ears of she ever breaks out into song now, but I still think that she is the best at singing those old lullabies, even today. All my dreams have begun with the sound of her voice, crooning sweetly as they slip away into fantasies.

But before the lullabies, would come the stories. And you know what? I think it was then that my love for stories began. Even now, I cant go to sleep without reading atleast part of story. It’s simply impossible. She would tell me these fantastic stories from the history that would have me begging for more, but then sleep would inevitably snatch me away.

Ha! Writing this post has made me nostalgic… Maybe I need to ring up my mum 😀

This post had been written for the Indiblogger Happy Hour contest courtesy Pampers.


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