The tale is ON-I

The logic of a 7-year-old, infant moments, and umm gloats…

Umm: You have to eat that

O: No, I don’t like the taste

Umm: It tastes good. I just had some

O: Each one has a different feeling. In my mouth it doesn’t taste good

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

O: Can you give me money for the canteen?

Umm: Let me check with Umm M if she is giving M

O: And?

Umm: Then we will decide

O: But why? You keep asking me not to compare with others. And you are doing that…

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Umm and N in the bedroom. And everytime Umm calls out to O, N twists her neck in every conceivable direction till she spots the door. And when she hears O, she breaks out into a loud laugh.

O acts nonchalant… or at least I hope it’s nonchalance.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Naw comes home thrice a week to clear the mess we make. N gives him a big smile everytime (N is always on the lookout for people to smile at, and if she can manage, engage in a conversation too).

Naw after receiving a particularly radiant and long drawn out laugh from N tells Umm: “She is so ready to smile. Just like Sir.” (Sir being R)

And just in case I didn’t get his point, Naw reiterates: “N is like Sir, laughs and smiles a lot.”

I force a smile in agreement, and bite down a grouchy cleaning instruction on the tip of my tongue.

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