“Legs off the sofa, or you don’t get pasta!”
“It’s ok Mommy. I don’t want pasta,” says my seven year old, matter-of-factly.
Now that’s unexpected. Pasta has always, ALWAYS worked before. I ponder a change in strategy when he scoots over and forks in a mouthful of penne.
“Uganda is in Africa, Mommy. It’s a poor country,” he says between bites. “I’m going to help the people there.” My heart swells with pride at this.
“… meet Shah Rukh Khan there,” he exclaims, cheese dripping off the corner of his mouth. My little one, all grown up, helping the impoverished … wait, what? Where did Shah Rukh Khan come from?
“Shah Rukh Khan? In Uganda?”
“Yeah Mommy. Ms. Nadia said Ugandans don’t have enough electricity. He lit that light bulb in that movie, remember? So he can help, no?” Face palm. Scratch WHO and Red Cross. My son is more enamoured by the Bollywood actor’s role in a movie where he generated electricity for a village.
“Then they can watch Doraemon too,” he continues.
I console myself with the thought that hopefully, his empathy for the kids of Uganda outweighs his fascination with the cheesy actor.
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