There are somethings that only dad can do. Like open my jar of puck at Sehri with his eyes barely open. Or add an extra hole in my sandal/watch strap. Or make fun of me when I fall sick. And somethings only mom can do. Like. Feed me freshly cooked rice out of a tiny plate with her own hands. Pick up a drad cockroach and throw it away. And this:
Me: Ma I need a lamp.
Ma: okay. Kis tarha ka lamp?
Me: Bas lamp. Kisi bhi tarha ka. Yellow light chaiye.
Ma: angry birds wala le aaun?
Aww my baby.