“Once upon a time, these containers used to be full of yummy eats…” Aman flashed a sly smile at his wife, as he started narrating a story to the kids. “And then….”
“Mom started going to work,” chorused the kids in unison.
A stern face emerged at the other end of the table.
“Tomorrow onwards, I’ll hold a cookery class for all of you. You need to be independent.”
This was Aman’s mother, taking up for the daughter-in-law.
“Kids …. We’re under attack. The feminist brigade strikes.”
His daughter walked with slow, studied steps and joined hands with her grandmother.