Fiction

My Cute Devil

Oh, dear! No. Mr. Bean is not your Daddy.

Don’t touch them. Come, hold my finger, baby. 

See, this pumpkin is even tinier than you. 

Yes, Mama likes that pumpkin. Isn’t it cute?

Erhan! No. No, don’t pluck it at all. God, why? That is not your football.

It’s okay, get up. You must have hurt that pumpkin. Are you okay? And your knees?

What? What you don’t know?

O honey, I also don’t know why are you crying? Look at your dress. I am not buying you new shoes.

Baby, when will you learn to put on pants? What is wrong with your hands?

Where are your pants? And what were you doing in the bathroom? 

Love, that’s my broom not your magical broomstick.

Erhan! No one washes mobile, never. 

No, you don’t even rinse it. 

No, it is neither thirsty nor hungry. But where are your pants?

Of course, you don’t know. Someone must have stolen it, no? Or was it magical pants that flew out of the chimney on their own? 

Wait, what was that burning in the hearth? Your pants?

Erhan? Did you do that? And don’t you lie to me.

Oh, I see. Yes, Mama also likes to wear hot pants. They are warm. But forget this one. It will burn you. 

Burn means hmm, that is a very clever question. Let me think. Do you know about fire?

And do you remember the needle? 

Injection?

Haha. No, we are not going to a doctor. Don’t worry. So, when the fire is given by an injection, it is called a burn.

Yes, dear. No one wants to get burnt.

Who told you that? 

Oh, really? I had no idea. I think maybe because dead people are stronger than us. They are brave, so they don’t feel any pain when burnt.

Yes, your Dad is the bravest of all. Honey, do you want to listen to a story?