About not having a Moturam

…and probably never having a Moturam.

And probably always wanting to have one

And probably never having the nerves to do a Gucci-bucci

Considering how I refused to step down from the case swing chair, since the chotu Moturam, yet, couldn’t jump as high up, considering how I shrieked in fear when the li’l bndle of mischief and cheekiness came bouncing towards me, considering how my best friend’s boy friend got The glare and much more, there might be a reason I don’t have a Moturam.

That’s why I keep saying give me a Moturam just as it is born, just before it opens it’s eyes, so the first thing he lays his eyes on is me. And then he’ll thin k I’m his mum. Any which ways I’m called ‘bitch’ more often than Divya. So…