A Good Democracy
As I mentioned last time, I am going to listen to the math teachers. It’s something I should have done more of at school, but it’s never too late. I may never be a software engineer like every other Indian, and I may never be able to tell one pint from two, but my hearing is still intact and I can still listen.
The Edwards being a good Indian family (despite our good English name), and India being a good democracy (as good democracies go), the Edwards voted. We said we were happy to share plates, glasses, and everything else in the kitchen that had survived demolition at Butterfingers’ hands, but since Papa had made his bed, he must jolly well lie on it. In other words, he must jolly well get his own saucer.
As often happens after a vote, Papa put up a fight. First he declared his undying love for us (the emotion in his voice reducing the family dog to tears). Then he declared that he truly did enjoy drinking tea with us, just not from the same cup, boiled in the same saucepan, strained with the same strainer, or stirred by the same spoon. Other than that, he said, we were family and should behave like one.
Rubbish, said the Favorite Daughter with a look. And since the FD had the power to silence him with a look, Papa meekly lapsed into silence and went to the kitchen to dish soap his saucer.
The saucer had already been washed by the maid, but in Papa’s opinion no maid knew how to wash dishes, so he always washed his tea things himself. This is how dish soap comes into this story. Next time a new FD will come into this story. Or at least, the FD will be Further Discussed.