The clock struck seven, and our living room turned into a battlefield. On one side, my three-year-old was busy "driving" his toy car across the sofa, while my husband—the man I call my "Jamai"—was frantic, hunting for his socks for the office.
I was standing in the kitchen, nursing half a cup of tea, with coconut-oil-based moisturizer on my hair. My son's skin routine was due, and I still had to whip up a fresh batch of his natural moisturizer. To make matters worse, the milk in the fridge looked thinner than usual this morning.
"I kept the blue socks on the top shelf of the wardrobe after laundry," I yelled back, stirring the tea. "Check there!"
He let out a sigh of frustration. "That shelf only has your sarees and old cosmetic boxes! You always manage to find your sarees, but my socks are nowhere to be found!"
I let out a long breath, thinking to myself: this man writes brilliant, witty scripts for my social media videos, but when it comes to finding socks, his brain seems to hit a dead end.