It had been a terribly exhausting trip to Bangalore. The elder one, 6 years old, had been sick and cranky. The little one, 4 years old, had been jealous of the attention the elder one got. It had been difficult to balance both their emotions and I was tired. It had just been 3 days with my parents and I was glad to get back home. It was supposed to have been my holiday, but I had neither had time for myself, did not get to spend quality time with my parents or my sister, not been able to do any shopping, forget alone any pending work that had been carried along. My nerves had been at the edge and I had yelled at the kids more than once and used words that were neither kind nor gentle.
Their crankiness continued after we reached back home, and as I, the ‘bad’ mom, was complaining about them to their dad, the elder one quietly went into his room and came back with something hidden in his palm. He asked me to close my eyes, as he placed something into my hand.
There were 3 coins worth Rs. 4/- worth a million dollars.
“What should I buy with it?” I asked after thanking him, slightly curious, slightly annoyed. It could buy me half a chocolate, I thought to myself.
He blushed, said nothing.
“Why did you give me your money?” I tried again. I knew it was from his piggy bank.
“For being good and nice in Bangalore” he explained.
So maybe, motherhood is worth something after all, far more than a million dollars.