I should punish you all by not telling you what happened to me but I need sympathy.
I am currently tethered to the bed.
Despite my reassurances to her that the injury will fade with time and TLC, my mother has decided that the only way to resolve the issue of my facial scarring is to give me an all over body toning treatment to ensure that my skin tone is even all over.
Considering that one half of my face is currently a bright, pinky red colour, you can imagine my panic and the need for her to have me shackled to the bed so I can’t escape. I’m sure you’re still wondering how I got myself into this predicament?
Well…After delving into murky waters by agreeing to venture out in public with Ladies Man, my antibiotics ladled brain promptly forgot about the whole thing and I decided to have my family over for dinner instead because I love them and enjoy spending time with them.
You are tied to the bed in your undies and at the mercy of your very upset mother. You better tell the truth and the let devil be ashamed. So you at least have a chance of making it into heaven if you don't survive your experimental toning session.
FINE!!! I only invited them round to put smarmy Market Boy in his place. His razz wifey had us over for dinner the weekend before and surprisingly none of us died of food poisoning. The food was rather nice (No way in hell I’m telling her that), the company was tolerable and there was copious amounts of alcohol so their boring conversations didn’t matter so much after the third or so glass of vodka. Anyway he’s been feeling rather smug with himself since then. You would think he flew in Gordon Ramsey to cook the food the way he’s been going on.
My wife’s so cool! My wife’s so awesome! My wife can crack walnuts between her legs (Well he didn’t actually verbalize that but I know he’s thinking it). Yadda! Yadda! Yadda! Put a sock in it loser. Nobody cares.
I was just going to ignore him but he called me …
"What do you want? I’m busy."
"You mean you’re forming busy because you’ve been changing your BB status every 15 minutes. Hardly the actions of someone who is busy."
See why I don’t send his ITK behind?
"Whatever! Who died and made you BB Gestapo? Did you want something?"
"Yeah actually. I was just thinking about your manless status the other day and I thought I'd call to give you some moral encouragement."
I just know this isn’t going to go well for one of us.
"Thanks bro but I’m cool. Don’t need any back patting at the moment."
"It’s not back patting. It’s more a critical analysis of where you might be going wrong."
Now everyone’s an expert. I know where I’m going wrong mate. They find out I’m related to you and they all make a run for it.
"That’s very thoughtful of you but like I said…buuuuuuuuuuusssyyy."
"See that’s part of your problem. Your snide, dismissive attitude."
Ah! See me see trouble. Is today international "Your Own No Go Better" day or why is everybody trying to bring me down? It’s only because my ashawo sister claims to love him that I haven’t shown this one my ninja assassin side. Crazy man.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You’re too hostile. You need to relax, let your hair down, develop some girly qualities and oh learn to cook like my Buttercup."
Is it that paki, eat rice everyday, went to FGC razzo he’s referring to as Buttercup? Can he possibly be comparing my ethereal self to her? Na lie.
"I am relaxed, I have several girly qualities and I can cook way better than your wife."
"I doubt that. As I was sa..."
"You want to put your money where your mouth is loser? I can wipe the floor with your wife any day."
"Gasp! You dare besmirch my wife's cooking?"
"Your oyinbo too much. Bring money and let me show you what real cooking is."
By the way, I've been meaning to mention your growing local vocab. So not on sweetie. Guys don't dig that."
"Kiss my bum bum."
So 5 minutes later it was decided. I would host my own dinner party and the rest of the family would decide whose meal they liked better.
So that Saturday I was up by 5am doing unspeakable things to a beef fillet and other exotic ingredients. I decided to have a Spanish Tapas night to show Market Boys jollof rice damaged taste buds what real cooking was. I had 10 dishes to prepare and I was mega busy. So you can imagine how annoyed I was when I got a call on the intercom saying there was someone looking for me at the gate.
I stomp outside in my bubu, my face covered in flour from battering my squid and lo and behold, I find Ladies Man waiting for me.
OH … MY…GOD! BRAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh yeah! I was going to remind you about that
You were going to? When exactly were you going to you useless excuse for an organ?
Well, OK... my bad. Totally forgot. Hehehehe... But really you have to see the funny side.
Do you see me laughing? What am I supposed to do now?
Ladies Man is taking in my smelly (Haven’t had a shower yet. Usually smell like a spring meadow, I do) and disheveled state and probably wondering what he’s let himself in for.
"Hi!" I said trying to decide how to blag my way out of this mess.
"Hello! I thought we agreed that I would pick you up by 12pm?"
Pick me up? I look around and I don’t see no car. Was he going to carry me on his back or what? Thank God I forgot sef.
"I’m soooo sorry. I thought that was next week?"
"No, I said this Saturday."
"Really? Oh gee! I’m terribly sorry. It must have been the drugs. I’ve just been so out of it lately."
"It’s all right. I’ll wait for you to get ready. I’ll call my friend to keep some seats for us."
Ohhhhhhhhhh!!!! What’s wrong with this die hard now? I feel bad enough as it is. It seemed like a bit of harmless fun when I was messing about and agreed to go with him. But now that he’s actually standing in front of me, looking all eager, I feel like an evil low life. I will just have to break it to him gently that I ain't going nowhere with him.
5 minutes later after lying my ass off about no running water, so couldn’t have a bath etc, I watched Ladies Man’s backside disappear off into the sunset on an okada. Once again…Thank God I forgot or that would have been me and him riding off on the okada. I could have sworn I saw him snapping his fingers in my general direction - The universal symbol for “I will show you”, but it was probably just my imagination.
Imagination my beautiful black booty! The boy seped on me! If he can't have me he dosen't want anyone else to. You can all say what you want but nothing will convince me that he wasn't responsible for what happened next.
After he leaves, I head back to the kitchen, drop a piece of battered squid in some cooking oil and it literally explodes in my face. I'm talking squid everywhere explosion. My face is on fire! I dunk my head in cold water. Rub my face with ice but nothing works. By the time my guests arrived for dinner one half of my face was already a weeping blister.
You would think my useless family would be sympathetic but no, they spend the entire evening laughing and Market Boy is calling me Scarface by the time they head off home.
As I'm trying to free myself from my mothers complicated knot system, I’m thinking of all the ways I can get my own back on Ladies Man and Market Boy. I wonder how much Area boys charge to break a couple of vital bones?
My door opens and in walks my mother dressed like a mad scientist in an apron, rain boots, hair net, surgical mask and gloves. Closely followed by Inspector Lamidi pushing in an industrial size keg of Fair & White.
What the….? She can't possibly be serious.
Somebody, save me please!!!!!!!!!!!