Somebody please help me tame these boys!

Last week I started telling you about the drama in my house.

That wasn’t even the half of it. It is only in my house that I need plates, cups, cooking pots and sieves that come with black boxes, like the ones fitted in aeroplanes.

And that’s because here, I can buy a 32-piece dinner set, and within three weeks I will have less than four pieces remaining. Black boxes would help me find out what happened to them.

Nowadays, I don’t even bother asking who is responsible for broken stuff. My boys are learning from our politicians. Nobody ever takes responsibility for any breakage. If, and this is a big if, someone does, they’ll flippantly say, “It was an accident, sorry”.

Well, I’ll have them know that accidents don’t just happen: they are caused, not to mention costly.

In Asunta’s house, everything has planned obsolescence written all over it. This goes even for tough jeans trousers, which are torn at the knees by the first week. If it defies my boys’ destruction tendencies, then it can survive the harshest environment.

CONSTRUCTION GUIDELINES

If you are a fundi, I volunteer to offer guidelines on the best place to fix, for instance, toothbrush holders, somewhere that the likes of my sons, Joshua and Issa, will not be able to reach, even after standing on a stool. I say this because my boys have a habit of squeezing toothpaste into the sink. As if that’s not enough, they try eating the empty toothpaste tube.

With my “in-house experience” I advise paint manufacturers to come up with paints that kids cannot scrawl on. The walls at home look like a dirty blackboard.

I bought them two writing boards, but they prefer the walls. I am now resigned to the fact that until my nest is completely empty, I will never see my wall’s original colour. The ceiling could have been spared had someone not thrown watery food on it. Sometimes I see little handprints, like someone deliberately wiped their hands on the ceiling. Boys ...

I have resorted to adding sugar in our tea while it is still in the sufuria. Reason?

The boys scoop more sugar than they need in their tea, and when washing the cups, you first have to scoop out the thick layer of sugar at the bottom. And to manufacturers of beauty products, please up your game. I’m losing money on wastage.  Your products should have sturdy caps. The first things my boys go for are caps.

Afterwards, it’s wastage galore.

They should also consider going the jua kali way and make galvanized stainless plates, spoons, pots and other utensils. As for furniture, that’s already covered. I bought a table and stools that weigh tons. I think I need the same heavy-duty material for other household items ... and patience.

School items cannot to be left out. My house can be used to test a schoolbag’s sturdiness, and the strength of its zipper. My kids don’t unzip their bags, they tug them open by holding the two interlocking rows of metal and then pulling apart. 

KARAOKE HOUSE

I think I’m spending more on replacing items than paying school fees. Can someone please lead me to a school where Joshua or Issa can go with a new pair of socks, and return home with the pair intact?

I’ve lost count of the pairs of school socks I’ve bought. Also, it’s only in my house where only one sock disappears for good. Don’t ask me where it goes.

That’s the stuff that whodunit plots are made of. Plus, I need a school that will make Joshua and Issa to sing their homework the way they sing adverts, without missing beats or lyrics.

Speaking of singing, it is only in my house that a pop song can be heard blasting four blocks away, with someone in my house joining in the singing.

What beats me is, when the house is dead silent, this same kid will not hear me when I call him, yet he is standing three metres away.         

With all this drama though, I wouldn’t exchange my children for anything. There’s some sanity in all this, er, madness.