Tag Archives: granddaughter

The Babies on my Lap


My granddaughter Maryam’s favorite pastime is to make me sit on a stool, and gather all her babies onto my lap. She is a toddler, one year, and four months old. She still doesn’t speak, except for saying Baba (her father), Mama, Lala ( her brother), and Da (which is me).

The babies are her soft toys. Most of the time they lie scattered all over our sitting area, and upstairs in the lounge. As soon as she sees me emerge from my room, she wants my undivided attention. She will pick her toys one by one, making a crying sound, then hugging, and then they are deposited onto my lap.

I dare not remove them from my lap, because they are going to cry( crying sounds made by Maryam). They again occupy their earlier perch. One other thing the babies do is to jump on my knee, one by one to the song of one little monkey, fox, koala bear, lion, leopard, tiger, elephant, dinosaur jumping on the bed (which is of course my knee). Let’s not forget the shark. It also jumps on her tail.

Another game we play is to chase her round the house. She runs, while I pretend to catch her. She shrieks with joy, looking backwards to see whether I’m following her, or not.

Come nighttime, and I become redundant. She waves to me, and follows her mother upstairs.

Shadows on the Wall (2)

There are shadows on the wall

They are still there to see

The ones on the right

They keep smiling at me

But the ones on the left

They keep frowning at me

So I keep looking straight

With my Dado at my side

Singing a lullaby for me


Maryam (my grand daughter)

The above poem is the second one (Shadows on the Wall).


Reading the word jiggle on today’s prompt brought M1 (my grand daughter) to mind. It’s her favorite word for he mother. She greets Nola (my daughter) by saying “Hi Jiggles”. Whenever I hear M1 using this endearment for her mother, all parts of Nola jiggles in my mind’s eye, and I laugh in spite of myself. 

Nola doesn’t like it as much. In spite of her protests M1 continues with it. It reminds me of those times when Nola would call me Pipla, and I would be annoyed with her. Why couldn’t she call me mother, mom? Nola has come full circle.

I would threaten Nola that I would stop speaking to her if she continued with it’s usage. The threat had no effect on her cause she knew I had a short term memory, and in next to no time I would be talking to her again. Why would she call me by that word? Pipla conjured in front of me a shriveled up ugly creature.

She doesn’t use it now when she showers me with her loving embraces, or when she talks to me on phone. I am happy that it has been deleted from her memory.



Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.