Coddling Cups

A child’s feisty memory

Image designed by author

I don’t want this.
First, the little jelly thing between
my teeth is missing —
Can’t suck on it anymore.
The little person mom calls
“My sister”, has one now.

Now.

This?
Words are bustling around
me in a silly cadency, Mom’s Red robe
pirouettes about the
yellowing kitchen
She swiftly grabs my bottle
places a small cup —

a white one, in my
tiny hands.
I no longer cry, but
there is a scarlet heat
building. This is wide
berth I’m supposed
to drink from?
No!

The cup flies from my
hands before I even know what
is happening. She bends, picks me up
laughs —
she thinks this is happiness
but I am perturbed! disturbed!

Confused!