smart phone screen

Yes, amma. I don’t want your phone. Please don’t give it to me. Please.. please.

I know, I used to beg for your phone for just two minutes and you never allowed me to touch. But now, I don’t want your phone.

Those were the days when you called me to say that I have got a call from my friend and I happily snatched the phone from you and ran to the room. But you came within minutes to take back your phone. You watched me if I changed screen and viewing messages on WhatsApp or Instagram. But now you are showing me messages. Amma, I don’t want your phone.

When you bring the phone, you either show me a video of your friend’s child singing or a drawing by another child. That’s okay. But you want me to sing or dance just to shoot a video and forward to your friend. Amma, don’t bring me your phone.

Your friends send you all kinds of puzzles – some egg + banana x pencil = 12 and then egg + pencil – flower = ?
You solve it and want to check with me or many times, you want me to solve it for you and send the answers to your friends that your son did it all by himself. Amma, I don’t want to see your phone’s messages. No, I don’t.

Yesterday you asked me to unscramble the words that had some unknown countries. Vanuatu, Kyrgyzstan, Burkina Faso and the likes. You asked me to learn about these countries. Did you know about these countries before you saw them on the WhatsApp forward? Amma, please don’t give me your phone.

I love the corner on the window sill and watching the creeper grow by an inch every day. I also love to take The Blue Umbrella by Ruskin Bon which is lying untouched for an year now. Or even ‘Seriously silly jokes for kids’; but don’t give me your phone, amma!