My little brother is two in this memory. Though he triggers my mother’s anger far less frequently than I do – because he is still just a toddler – once in a while, he does something that results in her scolding him.
Here is the unique thing about my brother’s response. As soon as my mother raises her voice, he immediately goes out of the balcony door and locks himself out, pressing his face hard against the door. His red, crying face becomes clearly visible through the frosted glass.
I don’t know where he has learned to do this because my mother has never locked him out in the balcony. Or maybe she did in the past?
But right now, my mother is no longer angry. With her hands at her waist, an involuntary laugh escapes her. I also cannot help laughing.
“How adorable he is!” We both exclaim before my mother quickly walks out to pick him up from his self-imposed exile.