Morning !
Too Sunday-azy to charge today's morning a 'Good'.
I was reading newspaper.
Too Sunday-dle to turn fan on.
From nowhere my son came and sat on my lap crumpling the newspaper partially.
Too Sunday-assive to push him away from my lap.
I asked him, "Gorom lagchhe, pakha ta chaliye dao".
Too Sunday-izzy to get off his father's lap.
Instead he raised his voice loudly against my father who was busy talking with someone on phone, standing very near to the switchboard, "Dadadua, pakha chalabe".
Too Sunday-eary to turn down grandson's order.
Fan is finally turned on, showering a blissful comfort.
The usual Sunday thing.
This is probably one of many Sundays on which we celebrate our Father's Day so Lazily, so Idly, so Passively, so Dizzily and so Wearily
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