From the moment I poked my head from mother’s womb and said ‘Waahwaah’ to the world outside, mother knew I was a temperamental child.
But she knew nothing of my anger until the day I spoke my first word.
We were sitting at the dinner table. I was thirsty and cried for my “bopple”.
She had no idea what I wanted and pushed the spaghetti instead.
I shouted out in anger, “Bopple, Bopple, Bopple!”
She pointed to the bowl and said, “Shush you little tyrant, eat up!”
Mother had it coming.