I'd put a mud mask from the Dead Sea on my face yesterday, and decided to leave it on till Ch came back from school, to amuse myself with his reaction.
He was certainly most disturbed when he saw me.
Kept repeating "WHY is your face black, mama???" the minute he stepped in the house, even amidst my mum's exhortations to go wash his hands.
I smiled and said I decided not to wash my face. Half-truth, but still disturbing to the little boy. "Why didn't you wash your face, mama?" "Mama! Go wash your face! EEEEeee... i don't like you.." I smiled and tried to kiss him. He withdrew in half-horror and screamed "NO...! Cannot kiss me...! I don't like black.. Mama wash your face!"
I rolled my eyes at his innate racism and tried to tell him there's nothing wrong with being black. Didn't work.
"Why is your face black mama?"
Me: Because I put some mud on my face.
Ch: Why you put mud on your face?
Me: Erm.. i put mud on my face cos it'll make my face look nice after I wash it off.
Ch (ignores what was said and formulates his own theory): Ooooh.... Mama! You go to the pig stay just now right?
Me: ahhaha...pig sty??
Ch: Yes! You went to the pig sty and you ask the pig, 'Pig, can I play with you?' and the pig said 'Yes' and you rolled rolled rolled in the mud and you got mud on your face.. right?
Me: Hahaha..
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Later in the night, before I put him to bed, I tell him that whether i'm black-faced or not, he must still love his mama cos his mama is the same mama who loves him. He frowns a little, then figures out an escape route..
"Mama.. but I don't like blaaaack... i like blue! Mama, if you go to the pig sty and play in the blue mud and your face is blue, your hair is blue, your nose your mouth is blue, then i'll like you and i'll let you kiss me ok?"
-_-""
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