#8: Teasing You Is My Way of Caring

I’ve come to realize that as little Xinbao grows into big Xinbao, her ability to tease me has grown exponentially. What was once a sweet little “cotton jacket” has transformed into a sassy little “air conditioner.”

Back when she was younger—

I would ask, “Xinbao, who do you love the most in the world?”

She’d answer without hesitation, her voice soft and syrupy, “Mommy!” She was truly the cutest treasure in the whole wide world.

But now—

When I come home from work and say, “Xinbao, look who’s back,” she barely lifts her head from her phone, glances at me briefly, and mutters, “Mom.” Then she goes right back to scrolling.

“...” Is this really the same child who used to cling to my legs when I left for work, or wait by the door to greet me when I returned?

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Once, I went to the hair salon to trim my long hair and get my bangs permed. When I got home, I asked Xinbao, “What do you think of my new bangs?”

“They look like a wig,” she deadpanned.

“...” Not ready to give up, I pulled my hair up into a bun. “How about now?”

“Looks like a man’s hair.”

“...” My 300-yuan perm fee wept silently.

The next day at work, my colleagues showered me with compliments, saying my new bangs made me look much younger. Suddenly, the 300 yuan felt worth it—maybe because the bangs had settled more naturally by then. That evening, when I got home, Xinbao glanced at me and said, “You changed your hair…”

Thinking she might have gotten used to it, I replied confidently, “Of course! My coworkers said I look ten years younger.”

“Ten years older, you mean,” she corrected me.

“...” In that moment, I truly felt ten years older.

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On our travels, Xinbao and I often wore matching outfits or clothes in the same color scheme, creating a “mother-daughter look.” One evening at the hotel, while brushing our teeth, Xinbao looked at our reflections in the mirror—one tall, one small—and asked, “Do we look like mother and daughter or sisters?”

“What do you think?” I replied.

“I think we look like sisters!”

I smiled, patting her head. “My little Xinbao is so sweet-talking. Such a charmer!”

“Then tell me,” she pressed on, “who’s the older sister, and who’s the younger?”

By age and height, it was obvious I was the older sister—wasn’t it? Unless she wanted to claim the role herself? Before I could respond, she declared, “Obviously, you’re the older sister because you’re older—and uglier than me.”

“...”

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My mother-in-law enjoys gardening. Over the Spring Festival, she brought back some peony seeds from Guizhou and nurtured them until they grew taller than the plastic sunflowers nearby. One day, as Xinbao sat on the couch looking at the peonies, she remarked, “These two stalks are just like us!”

“How so?” I asked, puzzled.

“One is growing taller, and the other is getting fatter. The taller one is me, and the fatter one is you.”

“...”

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One weekend, our family went out with Xinbao’s classmate Youyou and her family. At one point, Youyou said, “My dad is a walking soy egg.”

“Why?” Xinbao asked.

“Because he’s dark-skinned and bald,” Youyou explained.

Xinbao chimed in, “My dad is a walking jokester, and my mom is a walking chicken-soup lady.”

Youyou laughed. “That means we can have lunch listening to jokes, drinking chicken soup, and eating soy eggs.”

“...” The adults exchanged awkward glances. Our kids were having way too much fun teasing us!

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A few days ago, I posted a photo of Xinbao and me on Weibo. She said, “Let me see what the lemon babies (our readers) are commenting.”

When she saw one comment calling us “the red-dress beauty and the white-dress angel,” she immediately objected. “That’s wrong!”

“How is it wrong?” I asked.

“It’s not a red-dress beauty—it’s a red-dress fatty. A red-dress fatty and a white-dress angel.”

“...”

Another comment read, “Love Big Lemon Sister, love Xinbao.”

To which Xinbao retorted, “Hate Big Lemon Sister, love Xinbao.”

After yet another jab, I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you really my child?”

“Yes,” she answered sweetly.

“And you’re sure you’re mine?”

“Yes,” she replied again, still sweet as ever.

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Though she teases me mercilessly, there are moments when her kindness shines through. On a recent flight, when I complained that the air conditioning on my side was too strong, she said, “Mom, switch seats with me. It’s not cold over here.”

In that moment, despite all her sass, I realized she’s still my little cotton jacket. Deep love often manifests as sharp teasing. For Xinbao, teasing me is her way of showing she cares.