I might be an 18 year old person (very recently), but i
stand sit here to tell you that my dad still feeds me (literally his hand to my mouth) everyday. Or almost everyday.
I am seriously not kidding. Whenever my dad is eating something, i go stand next to him and open my pie-hole wide, quite like a bird, and my father delivers food to it.
Read on below to discover some embarrassing and weird anecdotes from my life. (?)
My childhood nickname
So obviously, kids are weird. And I was one. Hence i was unbelievably weird. Though, it’s not like i’m less weird now!
Like every child has one, the one extremely weird thing i did which made my parents sob, was not chew food. This was a regular dinner table fried of mine. And my parents nagging was nothing but counter productive. Hence i was given the nickname- ‘Sabah Chabah’, which translates quite literally to ‘my-name chew’. Obviously it rhymed!- it was meant to be.
This started when we got a cat- who i named Rory (yes, after him -to all Who fans). Now Rory used to do this thing when in the morning if you moved your leg or toes under the blanket, she’d run after it and pounce and bite. I liked it quite a bit and then you knew i was doomed.
After a very short time, we had to give Rory away (yes there were tears involved- but not mine). Before you know it, I have a strong urge to bite, a gnawing feeling in my teeth to bite- but not bleed- but strong biting urges and they drove me crazy. Luckily at that time, my mother was more than happy to roast peanuts and place them on my desk on all my afternoons which were filled with study (ah high school), and i would thoroughly enjoy biting them. I ate a lot of peanuts. Peanuts were like my religion.
I still faithfully love peanuts but I’m far too lazy and so the roasting and the gobbling happens much less now. Though the biting still exists. I now use my human subjects (the parents) as chew toys and my arms as a self-hickey canvas.
I also feel compelled to mention that I’ve asked my mother for the biting thing you buy for babies (take a guess) and that i had another kitty (named Chicken) who was the adorable-est little biter and i loved it and i love her.
Meet Chicken (as i call her) or Billy Boo, as my mother calls her.
I love her very much as i am her mother and she is my Chicken.
Did i mention the biting?
Yes, i even let her bite my favorite book! #perksofbeingamother
I guess you could say that due to my history and love of cat-bites, the cats have shared with me half of their beautiful canines (i have the cutest lower canines) and their urge to bite everything like a chew toy and of course, their cuteness. If you don’t believe me, just ask one of my friends.
Psst: I also have a human cat friend.
Once on my birthday, an elder person at school wished me, and i said ‘Happy Birthday’ back to her…..
I will never forget that and i will never not cry about that and i will never not cease to be grateful (greatful?) that because of my mouse voice and its inaudible volume, she never heard me.
The dreaded fancy dress (*show presenter voice*)
So of course, i was in a fancy dress. I was Little Red Riding Hood. I was perfectly prepared. I was cute and i had a basket. I had lines to say. My mother was so proud.
I. Didn’t. Say. A. Word.
I promise you, my life has been a series of embarrassing events. But due to having a human brain, they do not come to mind as of now- i shall keep adding as life keeps happening.