Column

Last Sunday we celebrated the 500th viewing of the Ramayana animation CD. This compulsory chore was at the behest of the family dictator, my four-year-old son. The great dictator is an awkward customer.

He’s hard to please, and if displaced can become quite terrifying. On Sunday as he was recovering from chicken pox there was no question of crossing swords with him. As Geffrey Chaucer never said, the only thing worse than an angry four-year-old running amok, is an angry four-year-old with spots running amok.

Now chicken pox and the great dictator have taken to each other like a fish takes to water. It has occurred to the dictator that along with his absolute power and clout, chicken pox gives him an extra weapon in his arsenal. The gift is that of compassion. Along with fear of his power, he now adds the receipt of compassion. As the plebians around scurry to attend to his every whim, their intensity and desire to please him now has a positive ring to it.

“Dada fetch my du du bottle, I’ve got chicken pox, you know” or “Mama carry me to my room, I can’t walk because of my chicken pox” or “Put on the Ramayana CD and turn my head so I’m facing the TV.”

These are the common commands and edicts that are in place at this present time. The dictator senses that in his present condition there is no question of denial or rebellion, quite the contrary. He senses a nation that is trying to anticipate his wants in a genuine effort to please the Lord and Master.

And what of the chicken pox?I’m beginning to think it’s a game invented by children. There’s no fever, no colds, no cough just a collection of spots that have been tastefully laid out on the body like a poor man suit. With chicken pox you get to bunk school and you continue eating and drinking what ever you like. It’s the equivalent of a paid holiday.

I’m wiling to bet that the little tykes apply spot to themselves, then pay off the doctors, pull out a couple of long faces and after that its game set and match.

So another Sunday passes us with another viewing of the Ramayana. The dictator being waited on hand and foot, for all his chicken pox, has never looked happier. Me? I’m busy studying medical journals to see if there’s some disease out there that will ease my pain. I suggest you do the same. You know the saying —‘There’s a disease out there for everyone — go get yours.’