Everyday, I Fight!

Chapter 4: Helen's Turn

Yesterday was the same old, same old, except that I was almost avoided by Carmine the entire day, while Helen bugged me like crazy!

Today, however, Helen was planned something different for me. Her face that stenched of 'plot' with rubbing lips and gritting  teeth hinted a large drama. Trouble, as I can figure.

She had a thing against me and I have no clue why. All I can say is that ever since I woke up this morning, followed by the heavy smelly perfume from my diaper, she had been peering her huge eyes at me. I could feel that daggers were being aimed towards me as if I was a training equipment.

Everytime she would stare for a while, then click her tongue with disappointment and then put on a thinking face. One time she gleamed with a delightful face; the next thing I know, I'm wearing a pajama like outfit. A small tank top and something like the pajama pants...? I've yet to fully grasp fashion anyway. Might as well leave it at that.

Mom, on the other hand scratched her hair and then gleamed at me with a face I didn't like. Before I could react, I was dragged away as she mumbled something and did my soft little boyish hair. It was something similar to the pixie cut, girls are used to in my old world. However, mom had a way with her hands and did my hair naturally, not cutting a single hair, or damaging them.

The feeling came even better than the saloons. It was pure relish! I felt as if I'd been drowning in a sweet scented water.

The drool from my mouth toppled down, but in an instant, I could feel envy being directed toward me. Now Helen was conjuring something up to her sleeves.

Just as mom was putting me into my cradle, "Hey, mom," Helen started, "Why not use the timing and teach this thing to crawl?" then she snorted.

Mom, who had not been fazed by her daughter's words, simply smiled. "Good idea."

"No," my father came out into the living room looking perfectly trimmed and ready, "how about after daddy~ comes home~?"

"But what if she fell over?" Helen strongly accused, "Or tried escaping the cradle...!"

I see. So she was trying to ignite the fire. Then adding fuel to that small flame to enhance it, huh. What a brat!

"You've sure gotten quite the temper," mom said with worry, "is this the side effect of awakening, I wonder?"

"Its not like that!" Helen pouted with a frown.

"You know, Helen," dad softly spoke with a stern voice, "your baby sister cannot speak yet. She barely utters anything except crying... so crawling might cause further problems."

Dad was serious. Apparently, in this world, a baby is always ready for crawling when he/she can speak a word like papa or mama. Babies speak words at 3 months age and the can crawl by 8 months. I had learned this recently, but due to the expired time, I didn't know what to do.

"How about waiting for papa~!" dad suggested with a charmed smug all over his face, "but if you wanna~ then, how about-"

"Not happening." mom shook her head and then produced a dark simper plastered on her face, "Dear, you're getting late..." She took his briefcase as if it was a shield and tugged and pushed him out the door elegantly, still smiling.

"So scary!" I thought, "Never make mom angry. Note to self."

As I tossed and turned myself in the cradle, I could feel two propelling auras, piercing at me.

The first one was Helen, who had a lot of pent up frustration.

The second was a rather gentle and shy one with a more confused daze. Peeping at me, was, Carmine.