ONCE A MURPH, ALWAYS A MURPH!
Did I mention that I was a Murph? Well, what happened this weekend merely seems to enhance the fact that I am, in fact, a Murph. As in, I’m a person who is the living, breathing true-to-life proof that Murphy’s Law persists. Since my sister was in a wedding, I volunteered to baby-sit her daughter Alishba, in the process giving up my social life for three days. Three whole days, each of which was exactly twenty four hours; seventy two hours which were more than enough to make me take a firm stand in what I now call the Motherhood is the Toughest Job in the World Cause.
How was I ever so ignorant as to think that taking care of babies is a breeze? How did one small baby manage to create in me an exhaustion that is on par with jetlag? And after the whole weekend, I’ve come to the conclusion that Like Aunt, Like Daughter. She seems to be a Murph too. Which I a pity. This world surely doesn’t need more of us.
Alishba is ten months old. She’s a fast crawler, and her favorite place is her mother’s kitchen, where she can sit on the cool floor and watch her mother cook. She’s pretty loud, and loves shouting out at moments where silence should be observed. She beats up her brother if he even deigns to sit in her chair, and claps in glee when anyone takes her for a car ride. She is, by nature, a cuddler, and sleeps holding the edge of her soft blanket. Having an agile set of fingers, she manages to spot every piece of lint and makes quick work of eating it. In other words, she is exactly as babies ought to be. So what makes her a Murph?
She tried to stand on the bed, using a pillow for support, which decided to slide down to the floor, when she was at her most precarious position, taking her along with it. She bruised her ribs slightly, and is rightly scared of being left alone now. Proof part two. To celebrate a birthday, the cake was placed on the table she was sitting on. Before it could be cut, she accidentally put her foot in it.
I took her along to the wedding reception on Sunday night, to return her to her mother. After I was dressed in my wedding finery, I took her out for a walk, which is when she decided to pee on me. And then she sat in the car, all excited about going out, but it refused to start. At the reception, when the master of ceremonies was giving a speech introducing the bride and groom, she set up a series of loud, excited shouts, causing a lot of people to turn around and stare. She stared back.
Then she turned around, put her hands in my hair, and pulled it open. When I scold her, she smiles like she understands everything I say, and then does it again. She enjoys getting attention, and is like all Murphs; good at getting into messy situations accidentally. Just like her aunt.
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