Those were the very words that came out of my mouth last night as I spoke with one of my closest friends.
As can be expected, the children in question were mine, of course. Specifically, we were discussing TK and who else but Bomboy. I was explaining to my girlfriend, Ms. M, how the boys were showing me pure, unadulterated pepper. Earlier in the day, the boys decided they needed snow in the middle of summer, and so, they took the white styrofoam packaging from a box of serving dishes and broke it up all over the kitchen floor. Please, have you ever tried to clean up little styrofoam pieces? It is an endless nightmare and just so you know, I have been cleaning up for hours and still finding styrofoam everywhere!
But, the shenanigans did not stop there. Of course not! Haba, is it not my children we are talking about? In the afternoon, after picking TE up from school, we went to the supermarket to pick up some frozen vegetables. Please, tell me why Bomboy chose that excursion to have numerous tantrums? And, repeated tantrums at that. The boy was screaming and misbehaving so badly, I could barely manage to breathe as my head was pounding ferociously. Because a woman recently popped her 13 month old in the face on a plane, people were circling me in the supermarket. Obviously to make sure that I was not abusing the boy. If only they knew the malicious intent with which Bomboy operates when he decides to be naught. *sigh*
So not only was I managing Bomboy's tantrum and being cautious of oyingbo folks watching me with their fingers on their cellphones about to call the police, I also had to navigate another issue. As I have mentioned before, I have Nigerians in my neighborhood. Why were all these Naija folks looking at me like "Ennnhen! Can you imagine the way this woman is allowing her child to behave?" One lady looked as if she was going to yank Bomboy up and whoop his @$$, lol!!!!! Its funny how I can chuckle about the situation now, but that is only because I was able to rant to my girlfriend and get it out of my system.
Anyway, I finally paid up (the cashier was a Nigerian guy who smiled at Bomboy and called him "Onijogbon") and took the kids to the car. There, I walloped Bomboy on his backside. He still was feeling brave sha, because people were walking around the parking lot. I didn't say anything. But once we got home ehn? Well, let's just say, his tears helped him fall asleep. lol! I hate having to shout and especially would rather not spank, but, when it comes to Bomboy, I understand that it is necessary.
So, yes, that is why when my girlfriend asked me what was going on, the only thing I could say was, "These children will not kill me." At least, not anytime soon.