Ninda tells a story

Being away from home for almost a month now, we have run out of books but my kids won't let me sleep until I read them a story.

So, we struggle to grasp the tab from little Ninda who has declared full ownership of this gadget for his temple run games. This little guy can really flick his tiny fingers through the gross- looking dungeons, I tell you. Well, I've always been a stickler for denying love for such games I guess.

As I was telling you, the three of us struggle to borrow his tab for about twenty minutes to find nice bedtime stories online. After much push and pull and tears and yells ( doesn't sound like a picture perfect moment, ewww!!!! But wait, it lasts only till the buffering stops to a cool display of online read aloud stories and the tiny tyrant too is deeply engrossed in the stories.

Good riddance of the temple run for another half an hour at least!!!

We browse through stories, laughing and giggling with the characters. I daren't choose stories with ugly creatures in it. Ninda gets scared too quickly and starts pulling the tab for that gross game of his.

But today, his sisters ( after listening to four Peepa Pig stories) are already dreaming of ice creams and lollipops while this little guy is busy flicking his fingers on the tab, tossing the ugly creature across the dungeon of no end.

I'm sleepy but can't afford to fall asleep yet! Not with this energetic little one still up and about. (Sigh! The life of a mother!)

To tire him out, I snuggle close to him and pester him for a story. "So-ri?" He seems flabbergasted hearing me plead for a story. From him.

I keep on with the show. He relents finally! Without even casting an eye on me (fingers still busy in the dungeon).

"There was a girl," he begins.
"Uh-huh," I nod to probe him to continue.

"Owwwww I'm dead!" He huffs in anger, continuing the game without wasting a second and the girl of his intended story, long forgotten.

"What about the girl?" I test him and his tiny patience.

"She cried!" He declares in a non-committed tone. Well, even he knows that all that girls do, is cry. He has seen all the females in the house cry. No blaming him for picking that plot for his story.

"Why was she crying?" I ask, sounding very pegged onto the story.

His fingers flicking, he says, "she wanted....." He takes a long pause. I don't think he is cooking up the next event for his story, it's just that his game is done for another time.

"Dolls?" Tatu, who I thought was fast asleep suggests. Looks like even she was trying to follow the little one's first attempt at telling a story.

"Tatu, you tell the story!" He orders and turns to the other side, leaving me with no space to pester him.