Liberian Literary Magazine
“ I am not. I just don’ t work like you do. I have time to work.” I fire back but catch myself because I am getting into one of those quick sand situations.“ Okay woman, when is the cornbread coming?”
She burst out laughing,“ You. You think I work for you?
“ Oh she laughs. The woman can laugh,” I chime in. I know I got her so I carry on.“ You live to serve me and my children.” I say trying to make a straight face.
“ Yeah right, master. Say that again and you’ d both starve.” She says between giggle.
“ Go in the kitchen and do your magic man, woman. Try it and see. By the time Butter is done with you, you will be rushing to fix food. Get off your lazy butts and go.”
We both laugh, I start tickling her. Butter joins in. She never misses an opportunity to tickle. She has no sides, on any given day, she’ d be stopping me from tickling her mom in hopes of me adding her to the tickle game or joining me to crucify the mom. Today, however, she is on my side. She runs off to the room and slams the door.“ You guys will starve today!” She says.
Butter and I are cheering.“ Yeah, we got mommy. We do our victory dance.”
The door opens and she pokes her head out and says,“ Foodgees!” slams it quickly before we can reach her.“ Click,” it locks. She continues to laugh.“ If you guys want to eat in this house, you’ d have to beg me-on your knees too.”“ Ipuah. Beg you from wheh side?” I say.“ Okay, we will see.” She responds.“ If you are a woman, come outside now?” Butter coaxes,“ Mommy come outside. We won’ t do anything.”“ Liars!” she says between laughs,“ You and your father. The, greedy people.”
The phone rings. Butter rushes there, takes it and recognizes her Aunty S’ s picture. It’ s Aunty”. Only one person she calls that. She answers it.“ Hello Aunty S. how are you today?”
Her grandma replies, Merry Christmas Butterfly. How are you?”
“ Maa, the woman jumps from the room and snatches the phone.“ Your grandchild and her father want to kill me.” My mother-in-law is one of even fewer words. She has never fully come to grips with the crazy jokes we make. Often, she says nothing in these situations but laughs. Today, she says,“ Oh Butterfly, what did you do to mommy?”
“ Daddy tickled mommy, Grandma. Naughty Daddy. Grandma, where is aunty S?” she
Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
switches.“ Oh, so you are selling me out?” I say to her.“ Were you not tickling her as well? She smiles that her crooked smile.
“ Yes Butter, a very naughty daddy.” The mom jumps in. She goes on to tell all about her latest adventure. Her Grandma listens and finally asks her why she broke the stove.
My phone rings, it is my mom.“ Hun, it’ s Mama.” My wife says handing me the phone.
I take it into the room, but the woman is more interested in talking to her girls as she puts it than me. We trade holiday greetings and she insists I take the phone to the women in the house. Well, I know better than to continue talking, so I go out, we switch phones, I get Ma and we start talking. We actually enjoy talking. We’ ve had an excellent relationship and I understand I am one of the few persons that gets her to talk at any length.
I hear my mom trying to sing for them and suddenly, I am glad I don’ t have to listen. Love my mom and all but growing up in a family of musically tuned ears, my mom and my brother that follows immediately after me, are the worst singers ever. A part of me is dreading the family caroling but the other is longing for it. We get a good laugh at those two every year-and they don’ t disappoint. They come back fully armed with all the wrong musical notes.
Bang! The suddenness and loudness make the two of them come running into the room. I too was startled by the sound that came out of the kitchen. I ran to see and when I opened the door, I just froze.
My wife came into the living room and asked,“ Hun, what is it?”
I just stood there looking …; looking at the stove; more like what was left of it.
I love writing but if you read no more stories from me I am sure you’ d have guessed right. Somehow, my wife read this and decided to put an end to MY story. Let’ s hope it doesn’ t come to that.
By Anony Mous
Natcho *= an extremely smart child; clever more on the witty side; more like know-it-all.
Feecee *= roughly translated as useless; not worth much; good for nothing.
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