In a few decades, I’ll be old enough to share a whisky with my old man. He’ll then be retired and, hopefully, pleasant.
Everyone becomes pleasant upon retirement, what with grandchildren stealing their walking stick and stealing fried eggs off his breakfast tray.
I’ll choose a chilly July evening when the fireplace in his study is lit, and he’s swathed in layers of woolen scarves and knitted leg warmers.
I’ll be grown, and making my own money – which means his twirled moustance won’t twitch when I stride over to his whisky cabinet and grab the oldest Scotch.
I’ll settle in the wicker chair next to his ageless leather coach. I’ll stare into the fire for a moment, and say nothing.
If you know my old man, his mind will be in a turmoil. No one walks into his study, grabs a whisky – without something important to discuss.
His mind will be on overdrive:
Has this guy finally made a decision to marry some Daughter of Eve?
Has this guy decided decided to demand his share of non-existent inheritance to sell off and travel the world and return like the Prodigal Son in the Bible? I’ll skin him alive.
After an eternity staring into the fire, I’ll remind my old man of our Back-To-School Dance.
This dance began a few days to the opening of schools. It was subtle, and a guest into our home wouldn’t notice – but, it was there, and lethal.
One, it would need me to be on my best behavior. Best behavior is perhaps, an understatement. Let’s roll with exemplary.
If a guest offered me hard-to-come-by pocket money as it was the norm in those days, I’d have to politely decline. I would spend a few sleepless nights after that to get over it.
At the same time, I’d be expected to fully keep them entertained, sometimes,up to,and not limited to actual dancing.
The last week to opening, I’d have to wake up at the crack of dawn to attend milking classes. To be honest, I loved animals – what I didn’t like is leaving warm covers to brave the chilly fog, and the trek to the dairy to make delivery.
All this while, my old man would be keeping tabs.
If this dance went well, father would treat me very well on the back to school day. We’d visit the local supermarket, and I’d have the run of the aisles.
I would have free reign to pick even the ‘luxuries’ – sugar, margarine, roll-ons, scented note books, et al.
On the flipside, it’d be rough.
Father would say: “Umekuwa kichwa ngumu. Enda ufunzwe na ulimwengu”.
That meant shopping is limited to the bare essentials: Bar soap (no toilet soap), tooth paste and shoe polish.
Well, how times have changed.
Present-day kids hardly get to endure the Back-to-School Dance. It’s a straight run to the shop for the essentials.
As it is, it’s advised to go cashless when shopping, partly due to health concerns with handling cash, security and a bit of ease in accountability.
Most shoppers have chosen Co-op Bank as their financial partner for a sound reason. The Co-op Visa card allows flexibility, safety and convenience when shopping.
It’s as good as paying cash, only safer and more convenient
You can use it to pay for goods and services wherever you see the Visa Sign, and there’s no extra charge – the only deduction is the cost of the item or service you are paying for.
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