Today was a good bad day. I’ve never had a good bad Sunday.
My Sundays always follow the same pattern – Wake up, church, relax. Every single Sunday when I’m home has been like that. Don’t ask me if I ever don’t go to church. As long as I live under my father’s roof, going to church is not a debatable something. But during the past two years or so, a certain somebody squeezed herself somewhere in-between “Wake up,” and “church”.
The best relationship you can have is a silent, anonymous relationship. This one where the people involved don’t exactly know one another. Yet you both know you have something. That’s the kind of relationship I have with this certain somebody. I like this kind of relationship because it’s almost impossible to get disappointed. ‘Almost Impossible’ because I got disappointed today. This certain somebody is older than me, 4 years lowest. But you know what they say, ‘Age is but a number’. For the past two years or so, this certain somebody has literally lightened up my Sundays. Regardless of what happens between the time I wake up and the very second I get to church, from getting into a silly argument with anybody to having a running nose, this certain somebody makes everything better. Okay I’m beginning to drag this thing.
She says the same six words to me, always, each Sunday – “Good Morning, You’re Welcome to Church”. You think I’m stupid, I understand. The thing is, the way she says it……. Damn……. She says it to me differently. Anyway, that’s not what I’m here for.
This morning, this certain short, cute somebody wasn’t around to tell me my day-brightening 6 words. *Sigh*
‘You don’t know the value of something until you lose it’. God bless whoever dropped that line. As I walked through the gates of Daystar, past where this certain somebody always is, I felt my heart melt…. All lies. But I had a feeling a not-so-good day was looming.
I feel bad for you cos today’s rant is just starting. Don’t you worry, grab a coke and relax, na almost brief something.
We all have things we hate right?
After eating dodo when I got back from church, I jumped into bed and watched Teletubbies. Home was peaceful fam. Mum didn’t have anything for me to do so this brother was chilling.
That’s how I heard one tiny voice shouting my name. I took the headphones I had on off and went out to see who dafuq was shouting my name. It was my baby cousin. Yaay.
I like little children. If I see a random ‘clean’, I repeat ‘clean’ child anywhere; church, a store, airport, I don’t care, I will touch him/her (Hmmm touch, it’s sounds so wrong, but you get what I’m trying to say, I hope) I must make him/her laugh before I leave them. Unfortunately, since I’m older now, I can’t touch random kids anymore cos these parents believe that chances every adult guy is a pedophile or a kidnapper are high.
I grabbed the little troublemaker and threw him up in the air. He didn’t laugh, he just giggled. I asked him some dumb questions people seem to ask little children and told him to go back to his mummy. Teletubbies was getting boring and since these FIFA people don’t want to include player transfers in their updates, I did the transfers manually on the FIFA on my laptop and that’s where I’ve been playing the game for the past week (Fam Diego Costa in Chelsea makes life easier; I can’t wait for FIFA 15).
Normal dubz, I launched the game and continued one player career I started last year not too long after the game came out. Ah, the things I’ve achieved! Soon after, Mr. Little Cousin appeared in my room and kept shouting that he wanted to play. I like children, but I hate noise, so I gave the boy the game pad and went to get my lunch. About 2 minutes later, I got back to my room and saw that this boy had magically found his way to the game’s main menu. He wasn’t supposed to be old, well, wise enough to understand such. I chose to believe that this chairman finished the match that was on and decided to play a regular match. I collected my pad and went to the career mode tab. LOL e be like joke, I didn’t find my career mode file
I don’t have the strength to waste on words to describe how hard I wanted to slap this boy. All my effort, sigh. I couldn’t vex.
But this boy had no remorse. He kept doing shit to annoy me. He spilled Ribena all over the floor, he scattered all my stuff. I lost it when he stepped into my plate of rice and walked all over my bed. Call it what you want but I jammed La Famalia extremely loud and beat the youth, hell, everything beatable out of this boy. I beat him harder than my Dad beat me many years ago when I broke the TV with my Health 4 ball. Then I covered his mouth until he was done crying, told him to smile and sent him to his mum. Judge me not, they did it to me when I was his age.
I thought this boy came to torment just me but when I heard my sister almost crying that the boy had restarted her Kim Kardashian: Hollywood game (I know what my sister had achieved brethren. All the K stars…Dammnn), this was me
I still like little children but once you’ve been alive for more than 4 years, I don’t like you. So add it to my list, I hate kids from ages 5 – 7.
Blame this certain somebody…