One

Guys I'm home!"

I drop the novel I had been reading and rush to my dad. He smiles as he sees me and my heart fills over with warmth like of which I always feel when I see him.

"Baba!" I fling myself onto his shoulders as he ruffles my hair.

"How's my favourite girl?" he asks putting his grocery on the floor.

I giggle.

Yeah, yeah I know.

I'm seventeen and shouldn't be giggling like a five-year old but I still do, in a way only my Dad can coax out of me.

When I turn around I see my mom. She has a baker's apron on and has a rolling pin in one hand. Some of the flour from the rotis (A kind of bread) she was making is smudged on her face. Her dark, black silky hair are pulled back in a low bun.

She looks so beautiful.

My mother is in her mid forties but she could pass for someone in her twenties. She smiles at Baba and kisses him on his cheeks.

"So how was your day honey?" she asks in a voice she only uses for him.

"Great!" he says grinning, "Got these on the way," he adds pointing towards the grocery.

She rolls her brown eyes but they're sparkling just like her smile.

"Like we didn't already go yesterday,"

he laughs.

"You know" he says, "my boss said that I-"

I tune out because their about to start their 'grown-up' talk.

To be honest, I can be pretty babish for a 17 year old. Babish as in, yes I do enjoy the cartoons Ahmed watches.

I bound upstairs, taking three to two steps at a time.

Then I stop because I can hear someone murmuring in a room.

"I am a little boy please don't hurt me." Ahmed says making his voice sound poorly.

"No! I'm going to eat you!" he continues, trying to make his voice gruff.

Pow! Bam! giggle. giggle.

I narrow my eyes then grin.

I think I know exactly what Ahmed is up-to...

I turn towards his room and kick it open in a flourish.

"No I will!" I roar.

I pounce onto Ahmed, tickling him under his chin. His head tilts down as he tries to stop my tickling hand.

But to no avail.

He collapses into helpless peals of laughter.

After an intense tickling battle we both fall onto the bed breath-less. We are red from all the playing.

We're both breathing hard.

I glance over at him.

He's so red, he could pass for being a tomato.

The thought alone makes me burst into laughter, and then we both start laughing for absolutely no reason at all.

Yeah that's Amal Asad for you.

Always acting like a baby.