Short stories with a comical twist on the daily obstacles, aka adventures, of parenthood

Category: 15 Months Old

Baby Dora’s Duck Face

“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. 

I am not a baby anymore; I’m 15 months old already!

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.

Who would’ve thought that the duck face is so popular? 

“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. 

I am savoring every minute of guilt so she can’t deny chocolates 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. 

A Cotton Candy Christmas

Now I know why everyone is excited about a White Christmas. I mean, who wouldn’t want an unlimited supply of cotton candy falling from the sky? Imagine sitting outside with your tongue out. I can just taste the sweetness as it melts in my mouth mmhmm.

I experienced this magical event at one year old when I watched the fluffy delicacy fall from the sky, scattering over my grandparents’ backyard.

It started growing thicker every hour as if weaving glistening blankets over the tractors to keep them warm. My favorite part is feeling the crunch as the cotton candy flattens underneath my palms and watching it slowly melt on my mittens. After ten or so handprints, I have finally made enough dents to see the green underneath the white sheets.

Then, I witnessed something even more magical.

At the corner of my eyes, I saw a white blob running out of the shed. Then it meowed. It was as if a big (very big), round, fluffy cotton candy fell from the sky and swallowed a cat whole, leaving only its eyes, mouth, and nose exposed. I tried to get closer, but its pointy ears perked up and ran away. 

The next day, I found it licking its paws, camouflaged in the bed of cotton candy on the trailer.

It carefully tiptoed towards my Grandpa and rubbed against his right leg. I was hanging onto his other leg for stability since I just learned how to walk. “Oh, hey there, Pretty Lady,” said Grandpa. So it has a name!

My temptations overpowered my body, and I lunged forward, grabbing hold of Pretty Lady.

I wanted to taste her coat of cotton candy, thinking it must be sweeter. I quickly shoved a fistful in my mouth. How disappointing! It was not sweet nor sticky; it … tastes hairy and bland. Yuck. I immediately let go, and Pretty Lady ran away again. 

Do yourself a favor and dress up your cat in cotton candy during Christmas (but don’t try to eat it). Only then would you have experienced a real white Christmas.

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