Tim's superpower

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Tim was at the tender age of 1 when he learnt about his super-abilities. He was trying to walk and grab the shiny ball that lay on the table near him, but he just couldn't get his wobbly legs to stay still. He looked expectantly at his mom, hoping she'll somehow understand how important the ball was to him. But she was just smiling at him.

The inability to get his target made him angry. He let out a cry, and felt tears roll down his soufflé cheeks. His mother sprang into action and picked him up, she rubbed her hand on his back. She still didn't understand! Tim was livid. He let out his frustration in huge gusty cries that reverberated through the house.

"What do you want, my dear?"

"Do you want milk? Food? How about this shiny ball?"

As the ball was thrust into his hands, Tim realized that if he cried, his mom would do as he wanted. It was his superpower. He soon began using it to great effect, not only with his mom, but also his dad and grandparents.

Soon, he could make his family do anything for him. If they were having something tasty, they had to share with him first otherwise he would favor them with his well-practiced bellow. If he wanted to go outside, he only had to let out one threatening cry sans tears and he would have an adult rushing him outside.

One day he wanted his mother to open the door to her room. He raised his voice, to show the imminent tears. But nothing happened. He gave a prolonged cry, but the door remained shut. As he felt crankier, he expressed his displeasure in teary howls. At last, his mother came up to him, but instead of picking him up, she had rested both her hands on her waist.

“That’s it! You’re getting spoilt day by day. You’re not getting things by crying now!” She wagged her finger in front of his face. Tim channeled his energy into his superpower, making sure the cacophony was heard by neighbors in the next block.

However, it seemed like the adults were able to resist him. He drank the water his dad offered and chewed on the straw. Something had to be done!

The next day Tim’s favorite aunt brought a rattle. Its tintinnabulations were heard by Tim, and he crawled towards it. But it was perched on a table, and Tim had not mastered the art of standing up. Crying would also not help.

His lower lip covered his upper lip, and he was about to give up when remembered the biggest superpower he had.

He pointed to the rattle, and his lips parted into a smile showing three front teeth.