Day #5: AirbnBaby
Mumma and Dadda are not around; I hear them chatting in the other room with a lady they called a baby sitter.
Pfft. If they think I’m going to just sit down with her, a perfect stranger, while they go out and about without me, they’re utterly mistaken! Mumma is wearing heels, that’s the sign that tells me that they are about to abandon me. Temporarily, yes, but still.
They told me to sit and play here with my trusty toy, the block set that doubles as a little chair, so I can sit like adults and play pretend. I’ll never understand why they do this sitting thing so much. Isn’t it much better to just run around all the time?
I also have my new favourite book, the “Encyclo-something.” It’s full of things I don’t understand, all seemingly unrelated to each other. It’s beautiful, but after a while, I have so many questions that my head hurts if I can’t ask them to anyone. I’ve already had my dose of headache for today. It’s time to unwind.
But… I’m somewhere new today, in this place adults call “Airbabby,” or something like that. I need to know more. What is this thing with a weird yellow plate and a stick next to it? And these other plates? Daddy looked at them the way he does when he eats a steak or when he looks at Mum sometimes, especially after a glass of that dark red water that’s not for kids.
I’m intrigued. Oh, wait… this thing has switches, like the ones we have at home! I must try all of them!
As I flip the bigger switch, the plate starts spinning. “I love spinning,” I think, as I do a couple of spins myself in solidarity. The stick moves gently and starts caressing the plate. It reminds me of Mum telling me not to slap Dad but to touch his beard gently instead.
Suddenly, loud music starts playing. Is this the reward or punishment for my mischief? I run away just in case, anticipating the “Evelyn, no!” that Dad will inevitably say, well… roar like that lion I saw on the big screen.
Peeking from behind the sofa that’s made me invisible, I see them all looking at me, smiling broadly with twinkling eyes. The lady says something and uses the word “cute.” Okay, maybe I like her after all.
Mum takes Dad’s hand and kisses him. “I have to join them!” I think, running as fast as my legs can carry me towards them. I hug their legs and say, “Up. Cuddle.”
I take their faces in my hands, and I join them together as I look closely at the extra kiss I’ve triggered, then I pull them both towards me, and they kiss one cheek each. “I love yaaa,” I say. Twice, to perfect my pronunciation. They seem to like that. I like doing things they like… well, except for not touching weird stuff in weird places. But that wasn’t me, was it?
Join My Journey: One Shot, One Story
Each day unfolds with a single random image from Unsplash, sparking the creation of a story.
Why?
This ritual is not merely about storytelling; it’s a pathway to a legacy I’m building for my children, something I wish I received from my parents instead of “stuff” — a book that delves into the intricacies of mistakes, healing, pain, success, and the shifting sands of societal values.
This narrative explores the devaluation of human virtues, the nuances of grift and speculation, addiction, the evolving roles within society, the impact of feminism, leadership, and the vital importance of responsibility and accountability.
Cool, but who for?
It’s a story meant to answer questions that distant relatives, whom I’ve never met or fallen out of touch with, might ponder about our shared lineage and the world that shaped us.
As a devoted father, this endeavour is my beacon, guiding the legacy I wish to leave behind. Writing, in a language that wasn’t my first, presents a unique challenge — one that I tackle with stoic determination. It’s an effort to break barriers, to communicate more profoundly, not just with my immediate family, but with anyone on a journey of self-discovery and growth.
But who are you anyway?
With a background in engineering, entrepreneurship, investments, and a heart that beats for art, beauty, and nature, I am deeply passionate about technology, history, psychology, and uncovering the layers of what makes things ‘weird.’ Above all, I’m a family man, a software artisan committed to lifelong learning, eager to share the insights gleaned from my quest to minimise regrets.
Follow my journey here and on X, let’s connect even if you simply want to tell me how much my content sucks. I’d love some honest feedback!