I asked Aunty Tope again, to be sure about what I heard her say at first. And yes, she repeated it. She meant what I heard. She was even motioning with her protruded meat-filled mouth for me to go ahead fast! The itching seemed to be unusually severe and discomforting. She tried saying something but the meat in her mouth stifled her voice. She could only mutter some inaudible meaningless sounds to which I paid little attention.
“Get closer ma,” I managed to require, doing my best to keep my composure. If someone had told me a minute ago, that I would soon be in such an awkward position, I would have flatly argued the possibility!
“Uhhmmmm….uhm…uhmmmm” she growled again. It was hard to get a word from her but I seemed to understand her to mean I should hurry. So I began dipping my hand into her denim trousers.
Initially, it kept proving too tight to maneuver but when I remembered that the hook was still intact, I was quick to go for it. As I did, the same scary question that had being in my head all along popped up one more time “what if mom comes into the kitchen?”. That was a big question I wasn’t sure what answer it could get. Mum should be tremendously happy to link this rather curious situation of ours to all her long existing suspicions. The earlier I went about this, the better, it seemed.