I am a 23yold grown up (lol) and responsible (lolol) adult. I had a pretty awesome childhood, really good memories, but there were certain things which I detested with all the hate I could muster as a 5yold kid. Read on to know more.
The Mom Vs Dad Question:
Random (nosy) Relatives/Strangers: So, beyta, who is your favorite? Baba or Mama?
5yoldMe: Ummm *suddenly thinking if I name JUST ONE parent, would the OTHER parent feel left out? Would their self esteem suffer at my hands? Would they lose confidence in their parenting skills??? How would their relationship suffer because of this? Am I being biased? Is being biased ok? Is it normal? Would they still feed me?? Am I ready for this? Omg anxietyyy * Ummmm… Both?
I was a clever kid (no, really, you should have known me back then, I was 10x cooler than what I am right now). Who is your favorite parent was probably the most dreaded question of my childhood. Having answered that question, I would always think if that Inquisitive Person would mention my answer in front of my parents and how my parents would later on have a heated discussion about it, over a cup of tea.
So, I’d play it safe and answer a resounding ‘BOTH!’ (Take that, Nosy Person!)
Having My Motives Questioned:
Ok, so this is probably one of those things that I still hate. As a child, I was terribly fond of drawing on walls. What did I draw? Stars. Moon. Pakistan’s Flag (the inverted version of it). My name. More stars. Random lines, which if were interpreted, I am sure, would reveal interesting things about my personality.
Almost all the walls of my house are either cream colored or just plain white. I would take markers or pointers and right in the middle of it all, draw a bunch of stars. Later, my mom, who is a sweetheart but the kind who believes in tough lovin’ (cough), would question me, if I were the person who drew those stars, I’d blatantly refuse.
Why, you ask? Well because:
A: I didn’t want to be chastised with a hanger/hairbrush/ wooden spoon etc etc
B: I didn’t want to be chastised with a hanger/ hairbrush/ wooden spoon etc etc
Obviously, that wasn’t the end of it. I was also asked WHY did I draw them? Honestly, I think, my mom didn’t give me enough credit for my artistic skills. Mother, I’ll have you know that in some parts of the world, parents actually support their child’s inclination towards graffiti. I could have been a child prodigy, but what did I get? Wooden spoons, that’s what.
Being Told that I Have Too Many Toys:
Ummm, excuse me? Hang on. Ok, first of all, any child, and I mean annnnyyy child, does not want such in-the-face negativity in his life. Too many toys? What is that even supposed to mean? There is no such thing as too many toys, like there is no such thing as too much cheese.
I am a child, I play with toys, that’s what I do. What else would you have me do? Wear a tie, carry a briefcase and go to office on my tri cycle? Who are you????
People in Costumes:
Give me Samara,
Give me Freddy Krueger,
But do not give me People in Costumes.
-A Short Poem by 5yold Yumna Sadiq
Honestly, what is up with people in costumes? Why do you have to hide yourself like this? Can you stop doing this?
The When- Did- You- Have -Her Question:
Okay, so I am the youngest in the family, right? I am 6 years younger than my brother. Some of my parents’ acquaintances, with whom they would meet after a long, long time, would always eye me suspiciously, when my parents would introduce me as their daughter.
Long Lost Acquaintances: Areey, bhai! Arrey Bhabi! ( meaning my mom and dad) Itna arsa hogaya!
Bhai Bhabi (My parents): Jee Bilkul ha ha ha
5yold Me: Awkwardly glancing from my parents to the acquaintances*
LLA: Ye bachi kon hey?
BB: Je ye humari sub sey choti beyti hay, beyta Salam kero…
5YMe: *flashes a toothy smile with my hand awkwardly extended*
LLA: Hein????? *gasp* but apka toh beyta nahi tha? Adnan?? (My brother’s name is Adil lol) Yey kub hui?
Downright insulting, ok. I have feelings, too. Pfftt.
Other Things that I Hated As a Child:
- Mysterious disappearance of my pencils.
- Being told what to do.
- Being told what to wear.
- Really tight ponytails (I have big eyes because of all the extra popping they did thanks to the too tight ponytails)
- Not getting the window seat.
- Chinese food (hated it then, love it now)
- Having my cheeks pulled.
- Having to share my toys.