Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 53

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So my sister decided to abandon her family, and go for training in Czech Republic. Well, maybe not exactly abandon, if we consider the fact that she’s doing it for her career, and it is just for one month. Her husband doesn’t get home until about 8.00pm every day, so they needed someone to help out with caring for Boma.

For a reason I cannot explain, the responsibility passed over my mother’s head, who should have been the usual suspect, and then fell on top of mine. Let me just whisper something, don’t say I told you o. I think a widower and my mum, who is a widow, are liking each other, and she is trying to reinvent herself for him.
She doesn’t want to have that grandma role stuck to her, so she can feel as young as possible. You did not hear it from me o.

I think this my suspicion above is one of the reasons I was called upon, as if I don’t have a love life to nurture. Anyway, I’m supposed to be living in my sister’s house on week days, and go home on Saturday, leaving Boma with her dad.

Location wise, it doesn’t really favour me because they live all the way on the island, and I have to wake up earlier than usual, but I get to follow Tonya and hang out with her more often.

I get home around 5pm most times, and relieve the babysitter of her work. I then turn off the baby monitor my paranoid sister uses to monitor her sitters, and get tempted to stuff some hair strands into Boma’s hair, since that is what she seems to enjoy.

That is basically my routine, and will be my routine for the next couple of weeks. On my first day there, Boma conducted a proper induction service for me. Who on earth created babies? Can’t humans just be born as teenagers, without passing through the baby stage?

I had brought all my deep conditioning ingredients, so I could pamper my hair on Friday night, before leaving on Saturday. Typical of Boma, she followed me about like a tail when I got to her house, and succeeded in knocking over my glass jar of honey when I opened my box. I noticed it about five minutes later, and warned her off my property.

After hours of exhausting the life out of me, her father finally got home, and showed me the whole routine of tricking her to sleep early. As I was still a novice, she didn’t sleep until about 9pm.

Finally free from the Boma shackles, I did my nightly hair and face routine, and sunk into bed. As a still sleeper, I really enjoyed the bed in my sister’s guest room. About 90 minutes later, I unconsciously started slapping my neck while sleeping due to a crawling sensation I felt. About five minutes later, it got more serious, and I jumped up to find the cause.

There were ants all over my neck. I touched my collar, and did not see anything strange. I removed my satin bonnet, and saw that at the nape, there was a little bit of honey. It was then it occurred to me that when Boma tipped my honey jar over, a little dripped on part of the bonnet, and I did not notice when I was putting it on because I was tired and in a hurry.

I dumped the bonnet into the laundry basket, had a shower, removed the honey-stained cotton pillow case, and had to make a makeshift pillow case with a satin blouse I had. It also occurred to me that the honey was most likely adulterated, as ants are not supposed to be attracted to pure honey.

I wished I could go into my sister’s room, drag Boma from the hands of her father, whose embrace she is obviously enjoying, while I’m busy clearing ants from my body.

It is now a tournament of war in this house, and Boma has obviously scored the first goal. By the time these four weeks are over, she and her parents will be looking for several goal posts to accommodate the goals I will be scoring. And, they will never see any of the balls coming.

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