The witch who feeds bugs

My year old nephew eats everything except food. The only way to get him to eat food is probably to scatter it on the floor like dirt.

He’s eating the petals of my orchid! I complain to my sister

Just keep it out of reach, she replies

The worst part is my dog wants to learn from the kid. She now wants to lick scented candles. I tried to find a bright side to it and immediately googled if the soy wax in my candles could be a source of protein, which she is deficient of. No such luck.

My sister subscribes to laissez faire parenting. Remember how mom used to scare us into submission? That was her mantra whenever I told her she should discipline her son.

If you don’t drink your milk then a monster will come to drink it. And you don’t want a monster coming home, do you? our mother would say.

Scared, I would shake my head and drink, worried all night what if the monster still came for the milk that was now in my stomach.

At least our mother didn’t let my sister experiment on me or I would have certainly grown up on a steady diet of bugs. Undoubtedly a good source of protein, that.

Every time she cooks I examine the food carefully, pretending to check the contents.

One time, she says exasperated to the table, One time a beetle crawled into his cereal under my watch. And somehow I become a witch who feeds bugs!

Nah. You are still a sweetheart. But can you please look after your son? He’s chewing through my Wodehouse collection.


About fictionfuture

An experiment in minimalist fiction View all posts by fictionfuture

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