Weekend

C screamed and sobbed. It was more than an hour now. Before this, she was happy, doing word play in the bath. “Mama?”, she would call from her tub. “Ya?”, I would reply looking in.
“Papaya,” she said, “Papaya. Mamaya.”
So incredibly cute.

We ruled out hunger, obvious physical discomfort and fever. B took her for a walk. I could hear her screams floating up to our flat. A came out from the bedroom just in time to hear the screaming. “Can you hear Mei Mei?” I asked. “She’s crying.” He looked concerned, “I want Daddy”.
“Daddy’s with Mei Mei for a walk. Mei Mei is upset. Why is Mei Mei upset?”
“I want Daddy.”

I carried A – his shoes were in the car – and we went down for a walk. I tried not to heave but he’s getting heavy. Her distressed wail floated by. It seem from everywhere and nowhere. We found them finally. She was sobbing so hard, she got sleepy from the effort. A wore a look of distress. “Daddy carry A.” We went over to pat her back to distract him.

At home, all of us sat on my bed while she cried. What is it? We never did find out. It could be teeth because when I asked if her mouth hurts. She cried harder sitting on my lap. A came in, hobbling with a toy racket. “Old man,” he declared of himself. She laughed. We fussed over A who got his sister to stop crying.

I took a nap. In the living room, the kids shriek and laugh. B was making rules for a new game.

Later, I woke up to cover a red velvet cake box cake with frosting. Now it’s not the time to bake from scratch. The timing tests out there that says it’s not much quicker. They forgot skill. Not everybody can knock one up.

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