Ah, the return of the eccentric maid extraordinaire.
Usually I'm at work when she comes, so our interaction is limited to a solitary appreciation of my clothes hanging on the line when I get home.
However, on Saturdays, I'm lucky enough to see "Grandma," I nod namaste to her, I skitter about the house nervously so I'm not in her way. I try and follow her Hindi, but her voice is a growl, and I tune in and out.
This morning, she came in with a big grin and began babbling to S, who burst out laughing. As she got on with the work, he turns to me.
"Grandma says she dreamed about you having a baby boy."