Preena Shrestha

I’ve been known to be more than fussy about a lot of things. As unappealing as the words ‘spoiled brat’ are, they do describe certain aspects of my personality. According to mom, I was a handful as a kid. I insisted on picking out all traces of green vegetables from my plate and throwing them on the floor; I would shriek every time she made me eat when I didn’t want to; I hated tomatoes. I still do. I even peeled grapes, because the cover was too ‘thick’ for my taste. I threw tantrums every morning when I had to get dressed for kindergarten. I was a maniac at the store, randomly picking things and asking my parents to buy them.

If they refused, I’d throw a fit right in the middle of the aisle. And when it came to giving me a bath, mom would practically manhandle me into the shower, and every chance I got, I would escape, and run around the house, one big soapy mess. Wrestling wild boars would’ve been easier, she says, shaking her head. Then there were those times I’d pretend to run away from home, just to spite my parents for not complying with my demands. There weren’t many places I could go. I usually ended up behind the water tank in the garden. I’d keep my ears open for approaching footsteps, practice my sulky face and cough loudly so that mom would know where I was. And mom, aware of my limits and my thoughts, would let me simmer for a while, and promptly come and get me after I’d cooled down.

Just for the record, I don’t do that anymore. But I still think there’s a part of me that wishes I could shed a few tears, pout and get my way. Of course, I’m much less trouble than I used to be, at least I hope I am, but people can’t change that drastically. My ‘fussiness’ is much more discreet now. I know it’s not fair for me to assume that the entire family revolves around me and my needs. My parents are really good sports when you consider how there are people who hit their children and abuse them. I definitely deserved a bit of slapping around. When I hear about the kinds of stunts I pulled as a child, I feel embarrassed, and very sorry for my poor parents. It also makes the idea of having children of my own seem like a very bad idea, I mean, these are some dangerous genes that I carry!