India, March 25 -- "When will they ever stop needing me to do random things for them?" I mutter under my breath as I'm popping a blackhead on my 18-year-old's hairy face. He's been whining about it for days now. He will not lift a finger to do something about it. Mamma has to do it.

This is after I've deposited my 11-year-old on a chair with her nebulization apparatus timed to work for at least 5 minutes before she repeatedly will holler to come in and check on her. Such. A. Drama Queen.

What is an alarm clock? Never heard of it!

My 14-year-old meanwhile is only semi-awake at the dining table that doubles up as his study area. He is in exam mode and has made tall plans to get up at 4.30 am and diligently mug up.

However, he can't hear...