If you know me, you’ll know I have 3 children: 2 perfect twin angels and one whom we’re donating to charity this Christmas. “Okiki” is my oldest, and the family Matriarch. She runs our home with calm, ruthless terror. I’m not joking. Everyone tows the line once Okiki has laid down the law. Don’t laugh, but this is how my 4-year-old daughter got me into major trouble with extended family.
It all started with Football: I’m a newly minted Liverpool supporter whilst my husband is an Arsenal fan. Of course, Premier League weekends are rowdy in our home and we taunt each other mercilessly. Okiki doesn’t like football and she thinks we’re badly behaved parents, she actually has said “Mummy stop shouting! Shhhh!” with a stern look, during a match. Of course we ignored her (who is paying bills in this house??). We didn’t know Little Madam was planning to deal with us.
We have these relatives who are our “Grandparents” (they’re my Dad’s relatives), whom we call Mummy and Daddy Pastor. They’ve always taken care of us since Dad died. They’re respectable, old-school, wealthy and very, very Prophetic. Every 3 months, we (my brothers and I) are to present ourselves at their Ikoyi home, to update them on our lives and get spiritual and moral encouragement (yes, there’s financial blessing).
We got there that afternoon, hubby travelled so it was kids, me, my bro and his GF and my younger bro. Everyone did church dressing, even that hopeless brother of mine and his GF (whom I know passed the night at his place!). Pleasantries aside, Daddy and Mummy started asking us about how thing were going. Okiki had a mournful expression on her face all throughout. I noticed and so did Mummy Pastor.
Mummy: “Omo dada, what’s the matter?”
Okiki: “It’s my mummy and daddy, they’re always using bad words!”
Me, aghast (mentally, what the f@# is this child saying??): “Okiki what do you mean?”
The Great Actress, Okiki, turned from me and went to cuddle against Mummy Pastor. Sucking up to her, ah! Pretender! She hid her face in Mummy Pastor’s dress. By now, Daddy Pastor too looked concerned. Once my child knew every eye was upon her, she continued.
Okiki: “Mummy and Daddy are always using BAD WORDS! Like, ‘you’re foolish! It will not go well with them today! Goat head! Failures should not be making noise in this house!”
Fam, I died. No, I expired there.
Daddy Pastor: “Whaaat! So you mean you are fighting your husband, in front of your children?!”
Mummy Pastor (murmuring prayers under her breath). Me (gasping for air and dying all over again) “we were talking about Football…”
Mehn, my explanations fell on deaf ears! How dare I use bad words against Olooworimi?? As my evil brother and his gf were hiding smiles and chipping in “helpful” utterances like “We were taught in Marriage Counselling to never use ugly words, see blah blah Bible verse”, Mummy and Daddy Pastor scheduled compulsory Bible study and Counselling sessions at their church every sunday, for me and my husband. Hubby and I went and it ended up being a 4-hour something! We nearly divorced each other after 3 weeks of giving up our sundays. Mummy Pastor also wakes me via phonecall at 1am for Marital Prayer session. I have never suffered like this in my life.
All because of one child.