. . .
The internal conflict inside of me lasted only for a second.
Haaba! I can’t let Betty’s diary kill me now! Do I have to starve myself? Abeg food things first jare!
I stomped into the kitchen to prepare some noodles and found it a bit dusty. [I barely use it, afterall what are fast foods for?]
I tried the gas cooker and remembered I was out of gas so I switched to the electric cooker.
I went back to the living room, switched on the TV and grabbed a drink from the fridge to placate my grumbling stomach, while waiting for the noodles.
Betty’s Diary was still lying afar off, on the sofa close to the door. I saw it seductively inveigle me to come closer. I ignored it for a while and tried to focus on the wrestling match on TV.
‘Awwww…’ I yawned.
The ladies fighting were so boring. I didn’t bother to change the channel, I switched off the TV and gave in to the seduction of the Dairy. It was opened to a page dated 29/01/2009
*In betty’s voice*
I enjoyed today’s jocular lunch at my pastor’s place. You remember my pastor now?! The one I told you is very funny.
-sorry, I don’t know him, I haven’t read that part!
I had a sumptuous meal with his family… I had to restrain myself at some point. (You remember my doctor’s advice on cholestrol and the heart, right?)
well, the climax of the whole day was when pastor brought out this chunk of meat and said he was going to make a barbecue.
Suya? We all started salivating.
He asked his wife to serve us juice as he put on gloves and an apron and walked out to the grill in the courtyard.
Minutes later, we perceived the roasting aroma and re-adjusted our seats; eagerly waiting for him to ask us to come and taste it.
We heard Pastor laugh heartily, he was on the phone with someone.
A while later, we didn’t hear his voice again and Pastor’s son volunteered to go check on him.
I saw him walk back in with a sad face.
‘What happened?’ we chorused.
The boy replied amidst tears, ‘No more barbecue!’
we didn’t understand what he meant, so we all rushed outside to the barbecue grill… Indeed there’s no more barbecue, its was all burnt!
Pastor later ran out from the garage, clutching his phone and a pen.
He saw the meat burnt black and the disappointment spelt out on our faces.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I had to quickly jot down the information someone gave me…’
we all didn’t say anything.
‘I’m really sorry’ he said.
He tried to cheer us up and he said,
‘come on, i’ll make it up to you all. Let’s just assume this a burnt offering unto God…’
we didn’t want to laugh but somehow couldn’t conceal our teeth and we burst into laughter. He smiled too and asked,
‘so who wants to taste?’
In unison, we all turned our backs to him and walked inside.
. . .
i closed the diary.
I could almost feel the disappointment they all must have felt.
Infact, I could also perceiving the odour of the burnt offering…
WAIT! This choking odour is not from suya.
My noodles is on fire!
I rushed into the kitchen and quickly took the pot off the stove.
I opened the pot and shook my head. I said,
‘I’ll find something else to eat. let’s just assume this a burnt offering unto God.
hilarious ain’ it?
I made a bowl of corn flakes and milk and gobbled the whole thing down.
I won’t read that Diary while cooking again!
But on the bright side. I learnt something, let’s call it my #7 lesson;
“There’s no use crying over spilt milk… maximize whatever is left and move on!”
. . .
It’s now past five in the evening. I looked around at the mess my living room was in and sighed. I still haven’t taken my bath.
LAZY DIRTY GIRL!
. . .
Soaked in a warm bath, I started preparing a to-do list for tomorrow in my head.
* First thing tomorrow, I’ll clean up the entire house. Thank God its a sunday, not a monday.
* I’ll check Betty in the hospital.
* I’ll read Betty’s Diary which is now my daily handbook.
* and I’ll play games on my PSP to my heart’s content.
Then something reminded me…
YOU HAVE A DATE TOMORROW!
I didn’t feel them butterflies, I felt honey bees angrily buzzing in my belly!
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