Previous: Raising The Standard
Isha looked at Rosh and sighed. He worked on the principle that it was time to tell them when they asked, but this was a touch too early. 'He'd better not say,' she prayed silently, 'Not yet anyway!'
Unaware of her troubled thoughts, Rosh strapped his son in the car seat, and drove away from the kindergarten.
When they were on their way, he chose his words carefully, "I knew I'll have to answer to you one day. So, might as well be now!"
‘If he must,’ Isha groaned silently, ‘Please God! Let him spare the child, the detail!’
"Your Nana (grandfather) Yahooed when he saw me," Rosh began, "He added me to his circles and invited me one evening to Google+ with your Ma. It was supposed to have been an ordinary meeting, but both of us went Bing!"
"We Tagged and Twittered through many a nights. When our parents got sick of our moonlighting, they allowed us to Skype. Now licensed to Google, we LinkedIn. We Qzoned, we Weiboed, we Habboed, we Beboed."
"Digging into each other, we shared and networked. I downloaded from her discs, she uploaded from my hard drives. We used no Firewalls, no Anti-Virus, but we never wanted to Undo or hit Delete buttons anyway."
"Nine months later, a little Pop-Up appeared that said, “You got Male!”
"Comprendo?" asked Rosh, looking at his son in the back view mirror.
"No Pa," Josh answered, "but were you talking about having sex with Ma? I don't think these social networking sites existed before I was born."
"No, he was talking about doing hi5 with me," Isha answered, "Thank God, he didn't name you Orkut!"
She sighed at thought of having to manage these two. 'God save me,' she thought, 'Baap ser, to beta sava ser!'
"No thank you," she laughed, "Two are enough! Too much Netlog is no good for my Formspring!"
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