lunes, 26 de noviembre de 2007

The Baby

Éste es un cuentito corto que escribí hace un tiempo. Para los angloparlantes, enjoy!

In a quiet afternoon, there was a baby that could not get what she wanted. Mommy said she would have to be a good girl and wait 'till dinner was done. The baby could not possibly wait so much, why would she have to wait? She had wanted that doll at the convenience store and by tears and tantrums she had gotten it. She had wanted the biggest, newest, most expensive dollhouse and Daddy said she could not get that because Santa could not make that one this year, but she had been a good girl! She didn't eat her vegetables and went to bed when she pleased, but that didn't count, did it? The Baby wanted the dollhouse, and The Baby would hate Daddy so very much if she didn't... And so she did.

The Baby had everything she could possibly want, Mommy would buy her all the pretty dresses, Daddy would indulge her on every single whim...But they were never there, not at all. They were too busy working, making money to give their Baby all she needed, all she wanted. But having all she wanted made her feel lonely in her graveyard of torn Barbies and dismembered Kens, and her closet full of princess dresses and pretty shoes. And she was so very boo boo all the time...But all she wanted right then was a slice of that cake, and it would all be just great when she did.

The cake had just been dressed into an exquisite coat of icing. Mommy wasn't around the kitchen much, but it was Sunday, and she knew The Baby would just love the cake. "everything for my Baby, all my Baby wants...But you'll have to wait after daddy's home and we have dinner, Princess!" So she kissed her in her forehead and then The Baby started throwing one of her fits...This would surely do it! But the phone was ringing and mommy was heading towards it.
The baby then dropped on the floor and cried even louder "I want cake, I want my cake mommy!!!" but it was a business call, and mommy had to get as much business as she could if The Baby was to have her pony when she turned 10 and go to that Ivy Leage college at seventeen. So there went Mommy, apologizing and moving briskly and her flower skirt waving along as she went up the stairs into her room, seeking refuge from The Baby's acoustic attack.

The Baby could barely believe it! How could mommy leave the princess of the house unaided and lying on the floor, in such extreme suffering? Of course the fit stopped at the same time Mommy stepped on the second floor, and The Baby wiped her tears and the thin snot with her forearm.

She wanted the cake, she would have the cake; and why wouldn't she? She was always given what she wanted and Mommy and Daddy bent like Gumby on those funny old cartoons, to please her every want. And there the cake was, it loomed over an edge of the table; so big, so yummy. The Baby walked towards the kitchen and of course, her chubby little fingers couldn't reach the desired prize, so she did the only thing she could, besides being a good girl and waiting for dinner: She pulled the tablecloth.

There it came, there it came! The cake wasn't huge, but she had to put some effort to get what was rightly hers. And there you have it that the cake's center of balance went past the tables edge and there you have it that The Baby's triumphant smile slowly transmuted into a squeal, and there you have the cake, as it fell face down, ruined.

But baby didn't cry. Sure, the cake was spoiled, but she was The Princess of the house, Mommy would surely just make another one for her.

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