When they start to grow

A teenage friend of mine was laughing about a baby in church who, after suckling at one breast, told the mother : “This one is now finished. Give me this one.”
Macline was so amused that a baby who can speak so clearly was still breastfeeding. I laughed along with her. But I shouldn’t have. My 20-month-old Misty still loves to nurse (notice the delicate choice of words) and is learning to talk. Recently she reported: “siyisht (finished),” after nursing at one side. She then turned to the other side and commanded, “eat,” with her hands already trying to dig around. I hope she will never get the chance to do that in public.

I’m beginning to see the rapid changes I have to make now that Misty is growing. When she started walking she loved to put on my clothes and shoes. She would pull down a blouse and struggle to wear it – usually it would end up as a dress-shirt or a very interesting baggy short if she decided to put it on upside down, with the sleeves as the leg holes. If it defeated her, she would drag it to the nearest adult and demand to be dressed or the World Cup of tantrums would ensue. Then she would proudly parade around the house in her latest fashion conquest.

Here she is in her layered look:

long sleeved red tee, model's own

sleeveless red polo neck, Minty's

Striped vest, Minty's.

Katikiti Mobile phone, Minty's!

A number of times I had to dive for my underwear before she got any ideas. One time she succeeded in putting one on but I grabbed her just before she walked out the bedroom door. Now all drawers containing drawers, so to speak, are off limits.

Recently I was lying down on my bed, she was sitting on my belly and we were having several disconnected conversations. She reached for my hair, ran her tiny hand over it and said, “Smaaaart.” I thanked her profusely and lied to her that her hair was also smart. A few minutes later, my hands were under my head as we continued to chat. Then she reached and pointed at the pit of my arm and declared: dirty! Now she was the one lying. Just because my skin is darker around this area! Shyaaah! No, no, it was not like Mabira neither was it like a golf course. It was smooth as a squash court.

Back to the girl chat, I had to cut it abruptly when her hands made as if towards the Central Republic of Me. Was she following a certain theme here? What was she going to do there? I jumped up before she had a chance to execute her evil plan.

Now I am considering instituting a privacy policy. Those things of following me to the bathroom have to end. In fact, I toyed with the idea of a blanket ban on the bedroom but that can wait a few more years.

PS: just so you know I have some cleverness in me, but some mercy on you, I considered leaving out the 'L' in Republic.