Do You Know Where Your Children Are? Always?

Let me first start out by stating that I really am a responsible mother. I bathe my children, feed them regular meals, put them to bed on time and attempt to instill in them a sense of right and wrong.

Imagine, then, my surprise when the telephone rang one day: "Hi, it's Laura Lee. I'm assuming you know that Owen is over at our house."

Ummm. No.....

You see, we are having a table base made for our marble inlay table top and the furniture proprietor came over to pick up the marble piece in his company rickshaw. His driver offered to give Owen a ride on our street, while they packed and wrapped the table top. Owen, grinning ear to ear hopped on in and had a ride. He came back and sat chatting with the driver in front of the house and then came in and told me that the driver would give him another ride and let him help drive, if it was okay with his mom. I told him that it was okay, came out to take his picture and then went inside.

Not long after came the phone call.

Apparently, once they came to the end of our street, Owen insisted on driving the Rickshaw over to his pal, H's house. He pulled up to their villa, climbed down and heading to the door, gave specific lordly instructions to the driver to "wait 10 minutes then I'll come out H can see me drive my rickshaw." Laura Lee, realizing that Owen had arrived unaccompanied thought to seek my motherly input. Once we had sorted out the turn of events, Owen was invited to stay and the ricksaw wallah was told to return to our villa.

Which he didn't. Instead, he waited 10 minutes and then knocked on Laura Lee's door again. She again informed him that he should return to our villa.

Eventually the driver and rickshaw returned to our villa...when we inquired why it had taken so long he replied:

"Ma'am, I was waiting for the little sir. Little Sir informed me to wait"

Aaaah...the changes afoot for one young psuedo Maharajah are frightening to contemplate, aren't they?

The Fischers
Especially Owen
in Bangalore