Not That Interested

Epilogue

A day in the life of: INAYAH MINA KHAN (Aged 18 months)

"Who is Mommy's cutie wootie?" I just stare curiously at the silly faces she's making at me. What exactly is "wootie"?
I screech when she grabs me for a completely unnecessary kiss. Absolutely no sense of personal space with this one!

When she tries to slyly feed me my peas, I draw the line.
"Bad Mina!" I yell at her, squirming out of reach, while tethered helplessly to this godforsaken evil invention they call a baby seat. She gasps at my words, pretending to cry.

"Ina! You didn't just say that!" She pouts dramatically at me, "Say Mommy. Or Ma!"

I glare at her "M-I-N-A! Mina Mina Mina."
I hate peas, and she knows it. How difficult is it to understand baby speak? I spit it out as soon as she plops it in. GET A CLUE, LADY!

She sighs defeatedly, and unsnaps me from my prison. Free at last! Hallelujah!

I'm not sure if I have introduced myself. I am Inayah Mina Khan. Daddy named me Inayah (Blessing/gift of Allah) because he says I'm his special surprise gift. Daddy also wanted me to have something of Mom in my name, hence the middle name.

I am slightly tall for my age (Or so my Dadi (Paternal Grandma) likes to brag to her friends). I have springy brown curls that my Dad refuses to cut because he says I got them from Mom. I have huge brown eyes, and thick eyelashes. My Mom says they are puppy dog eyes. I only have to tilt my head, and let a couple of tears fall, to make anyone my slave.

As soon as I'm free from The Prison, I run to Daddy, who's watching a football match. I need to complain to him before Mina butts in.

"Da! MINNA PEA, BAD!" I let out a stream of adjectives to describe my loathing for this food. He picks me up and keeps nodding his head like he understands.

"Ahaan. I hear you honey." He kisses my head, just as Mina walks in, the cursed peas in her hands. She scowls when she sees that I've beaten her to it. "BAAD!" I screech, pointing at her.

"She won't stop calling me Mina! This is ridiculous. Also, you feed her dinner, your daughter is impossible." She hands the bowl to Daddy.

Daddy peeks into the bowl, and both of us make identical faces at the green mush.

"Atleast she's not calling you Love anymore...that was awkward!" Dad reminds her of the time I started copying him. "And does she have to eat this sh-stuff? The princess hates peas. What can we do?"

"She needs to eat something Shehzer! The last full meal she had was crayons!"
I perk up at the word. I LOVE crayons! I love to draw all over...everything. And the best part is, that they are perfectly edible. I don't know why these two humans get so upset when I eat it.

"INNA WANT CRAY CRAY!" I announce to both of them. I'm not too upset though, I have found several alternatives for crayons; Mommy's lipsticks for one. I was so happy with my last art project, I drew all over her ugly brown coat. It looked so pretty with the red squiggles...Mommy was so happy she cried over it.

My Nani (Maternal Grandma) says Mommy used to draw all over walls and floors when she was my age. Nani says I'm Karma.

Daddy tries with the peas again.

"Here, princess. Look at the airplane!" He makes goofy faces, waving the disgusting thing near my face. I keep twisting away but he doesn't let it go. I think he's not getting the message clearly enough...
I open my mouth, letting him deposit a spoonful of gross greenery inside. I let it sit there, quietly observing his whoop of victory.