When my kids grow older and ask me the inevitable ‘How did you and daddy meet’ question, I’ll leave it to my husband because he tells the best stories (and also because I tend to mix reality with fantasy so I might actually end up telling them, how I *wish* we met instead of how we met).
When they ask if it was love at first sight, I’ll rush in and sternly say, ‘No such thing as that. Even our Lord Jesus loved us before he saw us. And we, in return love Him when we hear what He did. No such thing as love as first sight’ And when they roll their eyes because they already have a crush on someone who they’d swear would be their husband just by the way his eyelashes flutter, I’ll add, ‘And might I add that I understand an attraction at first sight. I just don’t want you to throw the love word around carelessly. Love this person. Love that person. Not a solid idea.’
And the sassy kid would say, ‘Uh…But you practically just threw the word around’
When the kids then chorus: ‘But daddy said he knew he’d marry you from the first day he met you’, I’ll tell them, “How could your daddy possibly know that? Have you ever asked yourself that intelligent question? You see, children, marriage is two-way thing. Strictly speaking, you don’t ‘marry’ a person. You both get married. Did you know that by definition-” I envision that at this point, my kids would get tired of my drab non-fun approach to gist and they’ll turn to their father and say, ‘Daddy, tell us an interesting story about you and mom when you were younger’
And the sassy kid would be like, ‘Emphasis on ‘interesting’, please’
My husband would say, ‘I see you have decided on who the more interesting parent is. Excellent choice, mes enfants! Well, I’ll tell you about the day your mom and I seriously contemplated getting identical tattoos! Sounds fun?’
I would groan, pause from my typing and say, ‘Really babe? That story? Why don’t we expressly tell the kids to go ahead and do all the things we warn them not to do? I mean, since you’re aiming at painting such a life as fun.’ My husband would say under his breath, ‘Uh… someone isn’t handling her past with grace’ And I would reply, ‘Seriously babe. That story is not for now. Thank you’
Then he’ll say, ‘Okay children, Madam has spoken. Let Oga now tell you of the time your mom and I went for our first foodstuff shopping as a married couple.’ And when I hear that I’ll respond to reflex by slamming my palms on the keyboard of my computer and turning around swiftly, ‘Okay babe! All our years together and you still cannot find a less-horrible story to tell. What’s the real aim here? No, please, tell me.’
And he and the kids would try to hide their laughter because
- We all know that my very reaction has just propelled curiosity and curiosity is an itch their father knows how to scratch
- I’m actually begin to act like a real life maniac.
And my husband would say while feigning innocence, ‘It’s just a story, darling. You’re acting weird for real’ The less sassy kid would, then, say, ‘I think mummy is just stressed’, and the sassy kid would also feign innocence and say in reply to less sassy kid, ‘Hmm. Do you remember that word that can also be used instead of ‘stressed’?’ Less sassy kid would be like ‘What word?’ And sassy kid would gasp in sudden realization and say, ‘I remember! ‘Uptight’. That’s the word.’
And so, having had enough of that, I would walk over to where they are and point at sassy kid, ‘One more of your smart mouth and you’ll understand the idea behind naming the bitterleaf its name.’ And everyone would look so confused at my statement until less sassy kid says, ‘What even, does that mean mom? Is that a traditional proverb?’
And we’ll all laugh while I go and get us all Ice Cream from the freezer. And while we all fill our tummies with the lactose gloriousness, I’ll whip out my phone and say, ‘You know what? Let me read y’all a dope poem I wrote for your father who has now forgotten the wife of his youth and aims to please children who would one day cling to their own spouses and leave him with… guess who?… yesss, said wife of his youth. Here it goes:
“I overheard someone describe you today
He said: ‘Oh, he’s that guy who always has something to say’
I thought that was hilarious
Because even for a person barely curious
He couldn’t overlook your loquacious
But I wish I was asked to describe you
(I no fit rhyme again abeg)
If I was asked to describe you,
I’d say, ‘Oh to me, he’s always like a song on the radio.’
And when they ask what that means,
You see, a song played on the radio has what I’ll call a ‘radio effect’
It feels different from when it’s played on your phone
It feels more special
It feels like it is to be better cherished;
Like it’s only here for a moment
And so you have to savor every tune, every lyric, every minute.
And that’s how you are to me
You are a song on the radio
You’re a once-in-a-lifetime song
What are the chances that I tuned in just when you were on
Baby, I breathe better just by you airing
And I do not look forward to the last note of your song
I will cherish you.
I’ll savor every tune, every lyric and every minute’
And there’ll be silence in the room over the smell of chocolate ice cream; over the silence of the loudness of how much I love the man I call my husband – how much I have always loved their father.
Until the sassy child would say, ‘Ooo-kay…. Haters would say that that was a really clingy poem for a woman’