Liberian Literary Magazine January Issue 0115
going to pretend you don’ t know what I am talking about?”
“ No, I don’ t” I say.“ I didn’ t touch any stove. What time did I have to do that?”
She gauges me, hesitates, but I know that I got her right where I want her to be-taking the pressure off me. I can tell that she is considering the most unlikely possibility. We both are, but unlike her, I am sure that that is the only logical explanation.
So I jump in before the moment gets lost.“ If anything happened to the stove, it is not me. Don’ t forget that we are three in this house …” I let it hang, not wanting to push my luck. Butter is our four year old natcho.*
“ Some dad you are, selling out your daughter to save your skin.” Mr. Absolutists chimes in.
I retort,“ Shut up. You know you are wrong this time because I did not have anything to do with this. Shame is what has you talking now. Just find a place and sit. I’ m not selling her. I’ m just saying the truth”
I get up slowly,“ Hun, what happened to the stove?” This is dangerous territory, if she did not stay long in the moment, I am doomed. She stares at the wall, saying and doing nothing. Thinking.
“ Good.” I think to myself. Feeling a little bad about dropping Butter to save my skin but somewhat relieved that I am not in the hole, albeit briefly. It is not as if I lied. That girl is responsible for whatever happened out in that kitchen. I am sure of it. Although all I want to see is the scale of her shenanigans this time. I bid my time.
We are not like her mother who believes that if it ain’ t broke, don’ t fix it. We are more like, if-it-isworking-someone-took-time-to-think-and-fix-it, so let’ s see how they did it. For the past six months or so, she has done more damage in this home than I have done in a decade. That is my story and I am sticking to it. There is nowhere she is unable to reach now. She tall; she climbs, doubles the chairs or use a ladder if she has to … but she always finds a way to reach her targets. I have caught her in the act a few times. More often than not, it is after she is done that we find out. She has this annoying habit of coming to you with an item she has spoilt and asking you to“ please fix it; it is not working.” She conveniently omits the part that she is responsible for that. I used to be annoyed at first, but after her mom took the opportunity to remind me that she is doing exactly what I do, I decided to do what my dad did to me when I started doing what she did- guide her along. Needless to say, her mum is so not cool with that.
I often tell her it is better I am aware and help, than to have her go at it alone. The safety argument did her mum in, but she has made it clear that she’ d rather she had no part in my fixing things habit.
Upon entering the kitchen, I saw firsthand the damage. The wife has caught up with me. Judging from what I see, even I find it hard to believe this to be Butter’ s work. In a way I admire it, but in another way, I am appalled. The stove is a mess. Almost every movable part is spread out on the floor-the trim rings, upper parts of the hotplate, the knobs- even the door was left open
I turned around with that look in my eyes that says,“ This here is a new level.”
The mum takes the opportunity to return her look that says,“ Are you sure that she did this?”
“ I have told you Hun, this girl is going to damage things in this house.”“ You told me this?” She sarcastically retorts.“ Okay, whatever, but this, it is just …..”“ Oops, hold that thought” I catch myself thinking and stop talking.
“ Which is what I am saying.” She fires back.“ I heard you making some noise when you came in this morning. I just figured you were adjusting things in your study as you have been wanting to do.
“ Yes I was making noise this morning but this is what I was doing.” I pointed to the Christmas tree and the boxes underneath.
“ I was doing the work of that fat dude.” I think to myself.“ One day a year, not even a whole day, a few hours a year, is all he has to work, and even that, he is unable to do. He ends up getting the credit for the hard work millions of dads put in. One day! He goes back to hibernating or whatever else he does all year long. I was feeling particularly unaccommodating to the Oldman’ s laziness. Perhaps he should retire and let others take credit for what they really do. Here I was, all week, I had been up and about; every bone in my body was sore, but I had to come home from the year end party, rush to get the last minute things, which by the way was another drama considering I hate shopping.
For some reason, all the dolls that could speak or sing vanished form the shelves. Butter had told us two days before that she wanted some Baby Alive doll. We learned it had to be imported- that was not happening at least not within the timeframe. Yesterday, was out because of work and we had to go to the hospital. So was today. All this just for some red suited Pops to be hailed as a hero. Don’ t get me started on the red nose reindeer or the talking elves.
She looks at the tree as if this is her first time noticing what was under it. She gives me that look that tells me she’ s impressed with something I had done but it quickly changes. We have a
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