Skanda-Purana: Adventures with my half-year old son
I f you compare my head and his fingers, you'll find more hair in the latter - such is the power of an infant's grasp, mind you. As for my son, that's how he expresses his love - by tearing my hair apart. U nlike his dad, he can come up with a spiky hairstyle, almost effortlessly - All he would have to do is wake up from his sleep. H e slips his hand under the quilt and screams his diaper-off, because he cannot find his hand again! H e proves every now and then that he's the son of two electrical engineers, by chewing the black USB-Cable of the 'logitech' web camera. W hen he cannot stand his dad's histrionics any longer, he buries his face with the nearest piece of paper available. W hen he is terribly hungry, if he cannot find his feeding bottle in the nearest vicinity, his mouth somehow gets hold of a nipple-like big and blunt object to suck - his father's nose. I f you notice scratches or blemishes of other sorts on my face, it means my son and I hav