If this is the first time you are reading a post on this blog, let me introduce myself. I am Baby Hashtag. My mother publishes posts on this blog (whenever she is over her procrastination) but I take over the posting duties from time to time to give people an insight into my colourful world.
Mumma has never read Alice in Wonderland to me. Thinking about it, I must ask her to add the book to my little library. I watched the movie once, about this Alice person. And this phrase from the movie stuck with me. It describes me perfectly.
‘”Curiouser and curiouser!” Cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English).’
– an excerpt from the book Alice in Wonderland
Grammar nazis and English language purists, ignore the title of the post. I know it’s not a legit word but it describes me perfectly. That’s my nature. Being curious and getting curiouser by the minute.
Right now I am lying in bed, ready to hit the sack and you know the last thing I did before this? I examined the set top box that was connected to the television. It was an interesting little thing and it screamed for my attention. So I gave it my attention. It also seemed to have gotten Mumma’s attention cos she shrieked when I got too near it.
That made me curious.
What was that shriek about?
I edged closer to the set top box.
She screamed again, this time shaking her head rather curtly.
But she does that when she’s playful.
I moved closer to the box.
She gave up with the head shaking and shouted NO!
That was my cue.
I had to touch the box.
Curiosity is king. And under my reign, the king wins each time.
Mumma gently slapped my hand pointing me to go in the other direction.
I understood she wanted to play.
So I made to touch the box again.
She slapped my hand.
I edged toward the box again.
She said NO and moved my hand away.
I laughed more.
I pointed my index finger at the box and went to touch the box.
She grabbed the finger and moved it away.
I laughed harder.
I was loving this game.
Turns our being curious opens up great playing opportunities.
This went on for about 30 seconds after which I got bored and distracted by a passport size photo of my aunt that was lying on the floor a few yards from where I stood.
See! Curiosity is fun!
I don’t know why mumma complains that my curiosity has left her exasperated. If I do not get curious now and explore different things on life, I will never develop a taste of my own or the ability to make a choice. Being a curious puppy helps me decide which game is fun-ner (another non-word today. Language nazis, spare me today)
My relationship with exploring began when I was 3 months old. My curiosity would get the better of me and I responded to sounds and movement like a hawk. I loved all that funk. At around 4.5 months old I started to roll over and new avenues to mischief-making opened up. I could now roll over from one end of the bed to the other and explore the plethora of things around me. My mumma is a hoarder so there would be a hundred things on the bed that I would love to get my hands on and play. Nothing sharp obviously. Mumma is a hoarder, she’s not stupid.
By the time I was crawling, I had vowed to see the world at full face value. So I did not waste any time crawling. I enjoyed a couple of weeks in my walker and lo and behold I took my first steps at 9 months old. My mumma kept asking me to slow down, to let her breathe awhile. But I had my curious mind at work and nothing was going to stop me. It’s been 7 months of me walking now and my mother is still praying that my energy would subside in a few months’ time.
I laugh at her naivety.
The fun has only just begun!