Thank God I'm not going to be born again

I was going through a severe round of nausea last evening after I reached home from office. It worsened when Appa decided to light agarbathi for the evening pooja. As I started puking, Anish, my seven year old, came to me very concerned. "Amma, are you ok? Are you fine?" He asked me. I nodded, finished the job and hugged him. We played for sometime and suddenly he said, "Amma, thank God I won't be born again!" I didn't understand. I usually don't understand because he says something but means something else (more on that some other time). But maybe that's a trait he's picked up from me :-)

I tried explaining that he can't be born again now but he wasn't listening. Anyway, I asked him to explain what he meant. So he said, "Ma, imagine if I were born again, I can't talk, I only have to cry for everything, then I will have to keep lying down on the bed, I can't walk, you'll have to carry me everywhere and imagine if you start vomiting when you are carrying me. Yuck! You will vomit all over my chaddi and everyone will think I have vomited. Yuck. And then you will give me oil massages and hot baths daily and I only have to drink milk all the time. No gobi manchurian, noodles, masala dosa...We will have to buy a cow ma. That's why I said I don't want to be born again!"

So, I have now understood how difficult it is to be a baby. Thank you son!