When one is a baby, one gets accustomed to falling down and spilling stuff. Several times. Not that it really matters. We are resilient. After a good cry, we’re right back at it. Adults could learn a lot from us, as my Aunt is very fond of remarking. However, there are some incidents that stand out. Allow me to elaborate. Lolo and Papa have a long tradition of having steaming mugs of hot chocolate in the evening. In the past they were shameless enough to enjoy it in front of me, confident in the belief that I wouldn’t want any. These days things are different. They probably have it after I’ve gone to bed. Anyway. One lovely evening back when I was little and had just graduated from crawling to taking baby steps, Papa brought two mugs of cocoa from the kitchen. We had moved the coffee table for some reason, because of which he temporarily placed the hot mugs on the sofa and then got distracted by something on his phone. Lolo was trying to take a picture of the sunlight hitting the giant Monstera Deliciosa. I saw my chance and waddled to the mugs as fast as i could. Quick as lightning, I grabbed one of the mugs by its handle and YIIIIKES!! I got scalding hot chocolate over my clothes, the sofa and the cream rug beneath it. It was so damn hot, I promptly dropped the mug and tears streamed out of my eyes. Lolo and Papa snapped out of their respective reveries and busied themselves getting me out of my clothes. Papa tended to the sofa and the rug, while Lolo splashed cold water on my chest and wiped away my tears. I still do grab stuff, but nowadays, I am careful to blow on it if I know something is hot. Another time, I was walking around and didn’t notice Papa’s outstretched legs. I tripped over them and crashed into the TV console. Just my luck that Lolo had recently replaced the ordinary-looking knobs with spiky golden Koi-fish shaped ones. I hit my forehead on one of the knobs and the spikes cut into my skin, making my head bleed. The pain was excruciating, and I let out an earth-shattering cry. Lolo rushed to my side, and I swear she seemed to be on the verge of tears too. Papa ran and got something icy and pressed it to my forehead. I tried to push his arms away because the cold thing was uncomfortable, but he persisted. I cried for what felt like a very, very long time. Lolo held me close and gave me my pacifier to suck on. I accepted it gratefully and passed out soon after. When I woke up, it didn’t hurt as badly as it had earlier. But Lolo and Papa were super attentive to me the rest of the day, and we took a drive, went to the waterfront, and I was allowed to have ice cream! So maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Want to hear another one? Last week, we were at a restaurant and Papa ordered some red wine. It came in a lovely carafe and the plum color really had me fooled. I thought it was my juice and so, grabbed the handle almost as soon as the waitress had placed it on our table. Papa grabbed it back from me, but not before I had tipped three-fourths of the wine on the table. The dark red liquid spread across the table, soaking everything in its path. I also got some on my pure white furry sweater, which upset Lolo very much indeed. They both glared at me and gave me a stern talking to, albeit in hushed tones. The waitress looked mad as well, and it took five minutes before the mess was cleared and we could eat. Of course, I sulked, but this time no one seemed to care. Sigh! You win some, you lose some, I guess.
© Milna Hyder Ali 2024-03-09