By Ogecha Obande
I hated cleaning; sweeping, washing, dusting… but when I was told to clean my Dad’s room 👀 I did that with glee.
There were many fascinating things about his room, but the best one at the time was his closet. I loved that closet; there were guns, not loaded of course before you start to shout, heavy shiny swords and then there were wine bottles.
Every time I would clean his room, I’d go in there and take a swig (I’m being honest here) of whatever bottle had been opened, they had a strange taste, but I guess it just felt good doing something stupid. I also had no idea they were alcoholic.
One day, while on holiday, I went to sleep in the afternoon, something I NEVER EVER did. I was woken from sleep and asked to report to my Dad’s room, where the rest of his offspring were gathered. It seemed someone had done something and he had assembled us there to catch the culprit.
SoMeBoDy had drank from another of his bottles. Guess who he started glaring at? After all, I had walked in there with red eyes from a siesta the whole family knew I would take only at the threat of a beating.
Here I was, totally innocent of that days offense and yet, he glared at me like he wanted to konk me.
He ended up telling us to file out of his room, realizing he had made the mistake of trusting us with his cupboard in the first place.
Moral of this story: Parents, lock your closets.
#ogecha #ogechastories #stories #childhood #alcohol #wine