“What is that face, Dora?” Mommy asked with a chuckle as she pressed her fingers on my pouted lips. As if she can flatten my muscles and mold them at her will.
From my weeks of thorough analysis, the puckered lips served as an effective mechanism for seeking attention when I am sad, hurt, and embarrassed. This duck face periodically gets the “awws” from strangers when I get shy. Sometimes, I even get a hug when I put on the duck face while deep in thought.
“Wah nwah,” I said, turning my head to escape her outreached arms. With my scrunched-up face and pouted lips, I pushed my cheeks up and squinted my eyes as if I could wring them like a wet rag. Humph! The audacity of this woman! How dare she deny me a second serving of Lindt truffle!? Is that too much to ask from your perfect, chubby kid!?
I gazed down as my upper lip covered my nostrils and inhaled deeply. Then slowly walked away as Mommy tried to hug me again.
Unfortunately, the duck face is useless against Mommy’s stubbornness this time. I should’ve slowly eaten that first one instead of plopping it in my mouth; I wasted a few drops of precious chocolate as it dripped out the corner of my mouth because the round chocolate ball was too big. C’est la vie.