My Teddy Bear Dowry

I was 12 years old, when my mother brought home an adorable, teddy bear shaped, Salt and Pepper shaker set. The ceramic duo, looked like they had tumbled out of an Enid Blyton novel. Instead of sitting daintily, on a prim and proper British family's high tea table adorned with muffins and croissants, they were stuck in front of my dad, who was at present, viciously murdering a fluffy, vegetable stuffed omelette, with his fork and knife. I was appalled with the way he was vigorously shaking the teddies, for a generous dose of salt and pepper on his already sodium-overdosed, deep fried egg.

"I want these teddies to be sent along with me, as part of my dowry", I blurted out to my mother, without thinking. My father put down the shakers momentarily and gave me a dubious stare. My mother just ignored me, as always. "Mumma, I'm serious. I don't want them to be used until the day I get married and go to my new house", I persisted. "Don't be ridiculous, Gayu", she replied promptly and went back to sipping her morning coffee. 

When I came back home from school the next day, I observed that mom had washed and put away the shakers in her kitchen cabinet. I hurriedly opened the cabinet doors and smelt the shakers, to ensure that it was thoroughly clean. Satisfied with the odour that wafted up my nostrils, I walked into my parents bedroom and planted my mother with a huge sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek. "For rescuing the teddies", I explained, while she stared at me quizzically and tried her best to wriggle out of my iron grip.

Fast forward to present day, I'm much married and have set up a house of my own. The very first curio set I put up in my house, were the teddy bear shakers. There is almost always, a single tear drop, that fills up inadvertently in the corner of my eye, each time I clean them.

My sofa cushions, eerily resemble my mother's. I'm endlessly wiping and dusting my house from top to bottom, all day, everyday. And my kitchen counters, sparkle like diamonds. If you stare at them long enough, you can see your face reflecting right back at you. While I made fun of my mother's obsessive cleaning my entire life, I realize I've become just like her. 

I've always been the most punctual person in my class, office and among my group of friends. I deliver promises, even before I can make them. Once I've made up my mind, on getting a task done, I'll do it faster than spandex wearing superhero Flash. My punctuality annoys people. My habit of getting things done, faster than I can think about it, irritates my husband. But I can't help it, I am my father's daughter. I'm a stickler for routine. I'm in bed by 9pm everyday, out of the house by 7am latest for a jog/walk/run/swim or a quick workout in the gym. We're restless beings, my father and I, but we're disciplined, restless beings. There is always a method to our calculated madness. 

Our parents try their best to inculcate in us, excellent habits. So the question is, are we ready to face the world, all by ourselves with these values ingrained within us, subconsciously? I would like to believe, yes (with a generous dose of "occasional" babying from mom and dad of course).