In plain words
Yaśōdā calls: "The good milk freshly drawn, the curds, and the butter churned and set up in the hanging sling: since the very day you were born, my Lord, I have never once found any of it left. Lest people say, 'Even his own loving mother spreads tales about him,' I will never speak of it before others, not even by a slip: come and take your bath!"