Madhavan sat fuming. He had returned in a foul mood. And the mess he encountered as he entered the house did nothing to improve his mood. And then Viji had come, with her own pent up gripes, going on and on until he snapped at her.
As he sat, Madhavan became aware of the incessant sloshing noise from the back of the house. Soon it became unbearable. It was his son, Vinit, in the bathroom. Madhavan soon reached a boiling point; he dashed to the kitchen, bellowing , “Stop it and come out.”
But the sloshing continued, even more intensified. Vinit had not heard his father and was happily thrashing about in the bathtub.
“Daaai.” Madhavan blew his top.
For a few moments there was silence. Then at the slit opening on the wall of the bathroom, a little face appeared. Vinit peered out of the slit, his wet hair plastered down, his goggles still in place. Madhavan looked at his son for a moment. Then he burst into uncontrollable laughter. Viji stared incredulously, not sure what to make of this sudden turn of mood. And then she too broke into chuckles. Vinit smiled. Everything was okay.
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