It is 3:45 am.
In the middle of a hot summer night, you wake up to have a sip of water.
And…. What do you see?Your fifteen months old daughter is awake, sitting on the bed; you don’t know since when, in the dark, quietly, playing with her own fingers with the curiosity of the utmost degree.
She sees you waking up. She raises her nose and tilts her head in the naughtiest manner possible. She mumbles something of ‘Yey, I’ve got company!’ sorts.
You silently drink water and lie down back to fake sleep. You pretend to have not noticed her awake, hoping she will go back to sleep due to lack of response.
But, she knows your tricks.
She crawls up to you, on your chest, pokes her finger in your closed eyes, scratches your nose, pulls your hair and jumps on your tummy to ride her hosss (her version of horse), she claps and laughs. She does all that she can do to ensure you don’t underestimate her determination to play in the middle of a weekday night.
As her hopes of you playing with her rise and it demonstrates through her energy outburst, you try to pacify her with minimal dialogues, little pats on her back and her favorite bedtime song.
Your response, even though negative, makes her hopes go higher. ‘Baaa! Baaa!’ she points to her toy basket and asks for a ball to play with.
You deny in every possible way. Saam-Daam-Dand-Bhed! You apply Chanakya tactics; but all in vain.
More than three hours pass in similar struggle; your struggle, not hers.
Your morning alarm rings. You wake up; I mean you get up, to get ready for work. You were awake since 3:45 anyway.
And as if the misery was not enough, as the last nail in your coffin, serenely, as if nothing had happened, with teeny tiny snores and subtle dreamy smile, she goes to sleep!
A night of fight ends!
Initially published on yourstoryclub.