The sweet smell of banana milk still lingered in the kitchen. She had just blended a glass especially for Masal — smooth, creamy, cold — and placed it on the table.
Before Masal could even touch it, Masa wandered in, grabbed the glass, and lifted it as if it had his name written on it.
"Masa! That's mine!" Masal's voice shot up like fireworks.
He blinked innocently. "Just one sip."
"No! It's mine!" she declared, smacking his arm.
"Masal!" she stepped forward, gently taking the little girl's ear. "Why are you hitting your brother?"
"He tried to drink my banana milk!" Masal protested.
"Yes, I saw," she said, pointing calmly at the glass. "That's the one I made for you."
Masal lifted her chin. "I made it."
"Oh? You peeled the bananas? You ran the blender?"
Masal hesitated. "…Okay fine, you made it."
"That's better."
"But for me — not for Masa," she insisted stubbornly.
"Yes, for you," she said patiently, "but he's your brother. If he wants a little, what's the harm?"
Masal hugged the glass tightly. "No. It's mine. I'm not giving him."
"It's just banana milk," she reminded.
"Even if it's just banana milk, it's mine," Masal declared, protective as ever.
Masa smirked. "Amma loves me more. That's why she wants me to have some."
Masal gasped. "Amma! You love him more than me?"
She looked up at the ceiling. "Ya Allah… give me patience."
She sighed. "Next time, I'll make two glasses."
Masal immediately shook her head. "No — three. Because we heard Appa once fought his friend over banana milk. Seriously — banana milk!" She widened her eyes dramatically. "And we really, really don't want Appa fighting us for it."
Hearing that, all three of them burst into laughter.
"Your Appa is a difficult man," she said, laughing.
"O Lord… give me patience," she added under her breath.
Very Soon
Regards
ZK💌