A Vivid Memory That Turns Me Scarlet =D

(...Actually there isn't just one  :D )

I was five years old. Mom had taken me to her college as I was “not mannered enough to stay at Granny’s place”. Granny was a remarkable woman, sixty years old, yet on her toes, house-keeping through all the fun hours I spent at her place with a joystick in one hand, and a big, fat cookie in the other. I used to wonder how come she never got tired…until one day when she really did. =( And that day I was to spend with Mom, facing all those queer-looking women who bent down to pinch my cheeks, and wishing they would “go to hell”. =o

One of those women looked specifically odd. She proceeded towards me with an “unusually enormous” smile. She was tall and lean, but still wore high heels.

As she approached us, I shielded myself with Mom’s dupatta. She talked to Mom for a while, forgetting I was there at all. Then she leaned forward and tried to stroke my face, but….

.

.

But….

.

.

I BIT HER FINGER.  =@

She gasped and drew her hand away. Mom glared at me…I started to protest (): “Mom, she has a strange face, it’s too white and her lips are too red. =O Her hair is yellow…Mom! She has fake brows. She’s a witch and I’m scared!!”
Mom was speechless. =o  I guess she was thinking that I was right after all!! :p

P.S.:  (In my defense) I was never used to watching women with bold make-up on. My mother has never used makeup. (You can call it natural beauty)  ;)   =P