Once upon a time in a castle far away in the northern kingdom, after several years of happy anticipation, a little baby girl was born to the reigning Princess Panacea. Though possessed of her father's less than spectacular looks, the little girl fortunately developed some little charm of her own, bolstered by her mother's frequent makeovers and soon became the delight of her doting parents.
Though perhaps they had doted a little too much on their Petulant Pill.
Barely did the Princess Panacea wander a foot away from the child, there would be whines, whimpers and wails enough to shake the castle to the rafters. Soon Panacea could scarcely move an inch away without the resounding keening lamentation that came to be known as the Pillsong. Though the apple of her parents' eyes, the screeching little girl soon became the dreaded gorgon that reigned in the castle nursery much to the unending horror of the nurse, the nursemaids and the servants. Each night as the Pill finally cried herself to sleep, the rest of the castle lit a candle hoping for a white knight to come rescue them.
Away from the Petulant Pill.
Sounds less like a sweet fairytale and more like a recurring nightmare actually. Though some parts have been wildly exaggerated, for the most part the sad story above is firmly rooted in reality. So much so that Pretty Panacea finds it hard to even leave her house, which is how it took more than a year before she managed to return for a visit with the baby. Ever the protective first time parent, Panacea finds herself loath to leave the child by her wee lonesome - not even under the care of her own elderly parents.
Something I realized when the Pill seemed abnormally attached to her everywhere she went.
Paul : You didn't leave the Pill with your parents?
Panacea : No. Never.
Paul : You haven't gone out without the Pill?
Panacea : No. Never!
Paul : Why? Your parents are living next door? So are your husband's parents? Isn't that why you chose to live so close by?
Panacea : But the Pill can't be left alone with them. She would cry!
Paul : Uh. So?
Panacea : She would cry!
Paul : Trust me on this but no baby ever died from crying.
Come on, seriously did anyone ever die from crying?
Till I pointed it out plainly, she didn't even realize that her baby hadn't been left in the care of anyone else in the family for even a measly ten minutes. Apparently the ensuing raucous wails would be heard from several blocks away. Like any other over-enthusiastic first-time helicopter parents, Panacea then handed me the lame excuse of her own parents not knowing what to do with a newborn. As I've heard that very same irrational reason several dozen times before, I knew exactly what to say.
Paul : Excuse you. Your parents managed to keep you alive and well till you're grown enough to have a child of your own. You haven't.
Perhaps I would have been a little more understanding if she were handing her child to an unfamiliar caretaker but really, her own parents. Really. Are you seriously trying to challenge your own parents when it comes to parenting? Like come on.
Let your parents be grandparents, and perhaps then there might actually be a Silent Night.
Though perhaps they had doted a little too much on their Petulant Pill.
Barely did the Princess Panacea wander a foot away from the child, there would be whines, whimpers and wails enough to shake the castle to the rafters. Soon Panacea could scarcely move an inch away without the resounding keening lamentation that came to be known as the Pillsong. Though the apple of her parents' eyes, the screeching little girl soon became the dreaded gorgon that reigned in the castle nursery much to the unending horror of the nurse, the nursemaids and the servants. Each night as the Pill finally cried herself to sleep, the rest of the castle lit a candle hoping for a white knight to come rescue them.
Away from the Petulant Pill.
 |
| Prince : Perhaps the magical unicorns would still her cries. Panacea : Yeah that's gonna happen. |
Sounds less like a sweet fairytale and more like a recurring nightmare actually. Though some parts have been wildly exaggerated, for the most part the sad story above is firmly rooted in reality. So much so that Pretty Panacea finds it hard to even leave her house, which is how it took more than a year before she managed to return for a visit with the baby. Ever the protective first time parent, Panacea finds herself loath to leave the child by her wee lonesome - not even under the care of her own elderly parents.
Something I realized when the Pill seemed abnormally attached to her everywhere she went.
Paul : You didn't leave the Pill with your parents?
Panacea : No. Never.
Paul : You haven't gone out without the Pill?
Panacea : No. Never!
Paul : Why? Your parents are living next door? So are your husband's parents? Isn't that why you chose to live so close by?
Panacea : But the Pill can't be left alone with them. She would cry!
Paul : Uh. So?
Panacea : She would cry!
Paul : Trust me on this but no baby ever died from crying.
Come on, seriously did anyone ever die from crying?
Till I pointed it out plainly, she didn't even realize that her baby hadn't been left in the care of anyone else in the family for even a measly ten minutes. Apparently the ensuing raucous wails would be heard from several blocks away. Like any other over-enthusiastic first-time helicopter parents, Panacea then handed me the lame excuse of her own parents not knowing what to do with a newborn. As I've heard that very same irrational reason several dozen times before, I knew exactly what to say.
Paul : Excuse you. Your parents managed to keep you alive and well till you're grown enough to have a child of your own. You haven't.
Perhaps I would have been a little more understanding if she were handing her child to an unfamiliar caretaker but really, her own parents. Really. Are you seriously trying to challenge your own parents when it comes to parenting? Like come on.
Let your parents be grandparents, and perhaps then there might actually be a Silent Night.
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