You remember a mouth watering portion of rum being placed in front you on the eve of your wedding and then wake up decades later to the fact that even though you remember the glory of it all, you cannot for the life of you remember why or how you got married. Sounds familiar? Picture this:
You’re an old man. Many parts of you have already fallen victim to gravity and they jiggle as you walk — your eyes lowered, your shoulders slumped — to the kitchen; the only place you will still willingly go regardless of your wife’s presence.
The smell of a mouth-watering gastronomic delight assails you and hunger assaults your internal organs giving you the courage you need to poke your head into your wife’s kitchen. You’re old but you’re still a big man, a broad man but a man ashamed to say that a single look from your wife is enough to send you scurrying out of the house.
Your old heart is pumping fast as you push your wrinkly body further around the door trying to see if she has put your bowl of food on the kitchen counter. In your haste to get a glimpse of your portion of the meal you stumble and nearly fall. Not a good thing to happen when you’re home alone with her because you have a feeling she’d leave you there to die. Your stumble draws her attention to you and you gulp at the venomous look she throws at you. But thankfully, you won’t get a tongue lashing because she hasn’t spoken to you in two decades.
Bang! Slam! Thud! Your bowl of food hits the kitchen counter forcefully and she huffs out of the kitchen. You feel a moment’s regret, but only until the bowl sits squarely before you. Then the steam and smell of its contents pushes it to some unforgotten place in your mind. Food has always been important to you and nothing, not even your misery creating wife, can change that.
As the food slips down your throat you remember your glorious days of youth. Back then you spent most of your time at work and then at the rum shop. And somewhere between those two places and then and now, the paragon of virtue you married turned into a tyrant. Her only redeeming quality is the art she still has of preparing mouth-watering meals. For some reason, you can’t imagine why, the woman hates you. But you’ve learnt to live with it all these years.
You suck on the chicken bone hoping that your dentures will manage to help you chew and you begin to choke. Terror squeezes your heart as the coughing gets worse and a piercing pain hits you. Your mind can hardly process the thought as you wonder if she’s finally made good on her threat to poison you.
Oh well, you think, if you’re going to die at least it’s on a full belly. Even if you can’t remember why you married the woman you’re thankful for the good food she’s given you. You smile despite the pain because you take comfort in knowing that you won’t be going to hell; your wife has more than dealt you enough punishment for your deeds! ([email protected])
