365 Days - Book II

278. Sticky

April 6, 2019

"Imagine a situation that's very sticky (ie: maple syrup or tape or glue) – and write about it."

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He looked at the bottle, then the spoon and then to the woman holding the spoon. She was talking in that lovely soft cooing voice of hers, he loved those sounds. But he did not trust the spoon and the thick brown goo in it; no... he was not going to open his mouth. 

The woman was equally determined, she gently clasped his hands, holding both his palms in her left hand, and moved the spoon a little closer, the sing song cooing sounds increasing in intensity and sweetness. He shook his head and let out a cry, he was not going to be fooled again, the goo was not sweet, it was not nice and it did not make him feel better. He knew it and he was going to resist it.

He kicked his feet and to his chagrin, she laughed. Oh! he loved her laughter too, but he knew that it would soon turn to sadness if he kept refusing. He was right, her voice turned low and firm and when she moved the spoon a little closer, he turned his head to his left and almost grinned when he saw him. He was safe, he would not be forced, no longer.

Alas, it was a fleeting relief, for he was betrayed when he felt his nose being pinched. He coughed by reflex and that was when the sticky syrup was poured into his mouth. Unable to cry he had no option but to swallow. Not that he accepted defeated, once those fingers left his nose and he stopped spluttering, he let out a loud protesting wail. 

His mother gathered him in her arms and his father patted his back, trying to mollify the year old baby. A few minutes later, the medicine took effect and he snuggled in his mother's arms as he drifted into a gentle slumber, the cough syrup worked its charm.

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