06 months old – Izzy Tornado

Don’t put it in your mouth! I said to myself.

My hands move closer to my lips. Are my hands disconnected from my brain? They are not listening to me.

Don’t do it! I concentrate my 6-month-old brain to set those hands down.

Mommy will be mad at you, don’t you dare! I scream internally.

The grip got tighter. Uh Oh, this is bad.

Mommy bolts from around the corner, snatching the black sneaker out of my hands. “No, Dora! Stop eating shoes,” she exclaimed.

I look at her, relieved. Crisis avoided… Nice save!

She picks me up and places me back on the mat full of toys, about 8 feet away from the shoe drawer. “Dora, stay here while I cook dinner, please,” as she puts a singing bunny in front of me. She walks back into the kitchen.

My arms and legs uncontrollably start crawling towards the shoe rack. Oh no! Not again!?

Izzy is cooking in her little kitchenette in the corner. “Wahh… Agh… Ahh,” I whimper for help. Can someone please stop my limbs? I like toes, not shoes.

What is that soft, silky feeling on my fingertips? Let me try that again – my fingers gently sweeping over my eyes. “Eyelashes,” murmured mommy every time I touched it. I like it – Eyelashes. At six months old, I realized touching my eyelashes would put me to sleep. Two months later, while lying next to my parents, I realized they have lashes too – must be a genetic thing. Hmm…would touching their lashes also give me the same drowsy effect?

My two little hands comb the air, like tentacles of an octopus searching for prey.

Once I know their head’s general direction, my hands swiftly glide through their chin, nose, and finally land on their eyes. With a quick sweep through the lashes, I gain instant gratification as my entire body relaxes; as if all the burdens of being a child are lifted (it is a lot of responsibility being cute and cuddly, you know).

Sometimes, it’s annoying if they changed positions when my hands are still on their lashes and I was just about to fall asleep. To be fair, it probably doesn’t help that my hand rests on their nose for support. It is particularly funny when I hear them breathing through their mouth when they have a stuffy nose. Still, my hands would frantically search the air again, fingers twitching for the lashes, and accidentally stab their eyes with my little fingers in desperation.

Oops, that was an accident.

When I find my prize again, I’ll comb lightly over their lashes once more, back and forth until I finally drift off.

After a few months, they gave me multiple toys with lashes on it; one of them was a doll that I enjoyed. However, it miraculously disappeared the next day (that’s a story for another time). Eventually, a stuffed cow with lashes was the keeper, it’s not as good as mommy’s and daddy’s lashes, but it’ll do.

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

Tag: 06 months old

Shoe Eating is a Crime

Lashes Addiction