The One where The Higher Authority Domesticates the Party Animal.

From a party animal whose blood was composed more of barley and ethanol to being domesticated husband; the journey of change has been quite unexpected. Domesticated in a sense that now I have a higher authority to look to, to ask permission from, to give explanation to about the minuscule things. I look to the higher authority for my daily food (given that I buy the stuffs), I ask permission to watch my favorite movie a little too late at night, I give explanation for why I came home late ( or early) from office, and why I still had empty Amazon packing boxes with me. Phew! And if my friend calls up at night, I have to justify my friend more than myself.

I never knew life would take such a draconian turn for me. Lazy and laid back that I was, suddenly I now have to be at my feet with Aye Captain word ready to come out of my throat at whatever is thrown at me.That includes:

I wanna have golgappas. Aye Captain!

I want this. Aye Captain!

I want you to sleep early, no more late outings. Aye Captain!

Do you want black coffee or milk in it? Aye Captain.

I asked you a question. Oh sorry, I got carried away. Black please.

Go and make yourself, you make better. Aye Captain!

From being a bad ass dickhead of a sarcastic fellow to a domesticated pet husband, let me enlist the changes. I used to buy crates of beer, now I buy packets of milk. I used to know my senior’s quarter better than mine; now they are just a faded memory, soon to be erased. To drink or not to drink is not the question; the real question is ” Alcohol, who are you? Did I know you ever?” Suddenly my general knowledge in lipsticks and cosmetic products increased to such a level that when I look in to the mirror, my reflection doubts me if I am the same person. My reflection sees me in dismay.

Even the cake that I used to bake so perfectly, refused to be baked; for there is no rum in it!

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One Comment on “The One where The Higher Authority Domesticates the Party Animal.

  1. Pingback: The Transition – wordsnomad

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