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As a future inventor of a sophisticated robot capable of ending human labour, distraction is one of my biggest enemies. If ever I’m going to be crimped, it will definitely be hugely by my supernatural trait.
I’m beginning to think that soon, I mean very soon, everyone will find out and my entire life and plans will be turned upside down.
A minor but powerful source of distraction I face right now is my hyperactive, talkative, of a nanny who at my detriment, is always with me; playing, singing, dancing to entertain me.
The most annoying part happens when she spends all day making funny faces at me, bouncing me severally on her lap and throwing me up in the air to catch me mid-air.
Well, I know she means well but, I wish she could just disappear and leave me alone. As I’m thinking about how to get rid of her, she enters my room again for the twentieth time in an hour and starts talking to me about her son who gets bullied at school as if I’m her age.
“No one who bullies my child goes free. No bully beats my child! Not my baby!” She slaps both palms on her busty chest and shakes her head afterwards.
“Neither will I allow anyone bullies you at school. I would fight back.” She turns to check on me before reaching for the doorknob.
“Fight back? Who? A child?” She slowly withdraws her hand and listens. I close my eyes. When next I open them, she has gently closed the door.
She re-enters after a few minutes with my meal. I look at her and feel sorry for her. What I’m about to do will surely scare her but my brain is all set to make it happen. I can’t control it now.
“Come on baby. Come take your meal. I’m sure you’re famished. Why don’t you ever cry? You’re such a good child. My former child cried every couple of minutes and I didn’t like it. You’re the best Baby!” She went on and on and my brain becomes very active to make the vice happen.
She approaches my cot and hovers over it smiling as she tickles my neck, tummy, feet and the rest of them playfully, I sit up, then stand up, walk to the edge, hold my cot rail and climb down the cot. She becomes amazed, then frantic, then terrorised and then drops my meal on my room mat and runs out the door screaming hell on earth.
I’ve never been amused this much in my entire short life. Mum rushes into my room after a while hesitates at the door and walks closer. When she sees I’m sleeping peacefully in my cot, she covers me up with my blanket and kisses my forehead. My Nanny’s head is at the door; about seven arm’s length away from my cot, peeping.
“You’ve got to stop hallucinating and mind my baby,” mum says.
When mum leaves she quickly cleans the mess on the mat, looking at me at the interval. Sooner than I thought she starts picking her few items in my room and leaves in a haste and fails to report to work the next day.
“Yah hoooo! Good news!” I say with my hands raised in the air and my soft feet pressed on my mat when my mum announces to my dad that my nanny says she won’t be coming again. I’m alone. Time to settle down and draw my plan and to work hard before another nanny comes. Mum is sure to get another soon.
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