Unpredictable Change

Part 17- Motherhood Trial

Chapter 17

Just as I was contemplating whether being a mother would help my career now or not, Christine decides to give me a taste of it. She has a work trip to Kumasi and will be back the next evening. Jeremiah also has an urgent morning meeting and won't be able to get Diane ready for school early. Since Ariana is staying with us for a while, Christine thought it wise to leave Diane with us until she returns. If I didn't mention it, Jeremiah is the bank manager in the Rhode Family, managing one of their several banking branches, the largest they have in Ghana, around three branches or so.

"The school has a PTA meeting tomorrow at 8 am. Can you two attend for us?" Christine pleads.

"What? Have you forgotten I'm a celebrity? God! Shoot me!" I whine.

"Stop being dramatic! Wear sunglasses or a scarf or something," she rolls her eyes at me, pushes Diane with a tiny suitcase and school bag into my hand, waves, and quickly gets into a taxi, speeding off. I'm left alone with the very demanding and interrogative Diane. She lets go of my hand and throws herself on Leslie's two-seater couch.

"Honey! Can you take your shoes off?" I softly call out, pointing to her muddy shoes.

"Why? My mom makes me sleep on the couch with my shoes," she ignores me and puts her legs on the couch. What was Christine thinking, bringing her to my workplace?

"Okay, fine! Sit here quietly, I need to get a few things, then we'll go home," she nods.

"Can you believe she stole all of Leslie's chocolates from her drawer? I left for less than 10 minutes and I came back to find her face stuffed with chocolates," I huff, and Justin laughs.

"She didn't steal it. She took it."

"It's all the same."

"Aunt Kylie. Are you talking about me?" I sigh defeatedly and lead her to the dining table.

"No, baby. I wasn't. I was just telling your uncle about our little encounter with Leslie's chocolates. You even helped my friend eat all her chocolates," I smile and make her sit on the chair.

"My mom says when elders avoid questions and become ironic, it means they're lying." Ariana bursts into laughter while Justin and I stand there dumbfounded.

"How old is she again?" I ask Justin, and he chuckles.

"Four," he replies, still trying to contain his amusement. We all sit down to eat Jollof rice and chicken, the best food to lure kids, but I forgot this kid is not like any other. She rejects the food after eating a few morsels, finishes two chicken thighs, and then demands pizza and coke. I can't say no to her because she's a kid, and I don't want to hurt her feelings.

"You don't always have to say yes to kids," Ariana chastises. Justin is watching me go out of my mind with her. Soon, the pizza arrives, and she devours it with the help of Ariana and Justin. I take one bite and let them be.

"I want to pee."

"Okay. Go to the bathroom."

"No! I want you to take me," she whines and stomps her feet. It's Justin's turn to deal with her tantrum now. Ariana and I are comfortably watching TV.

"My mom told me that only lazy adults don't take their children to the bathroom."

"Well! Your mom has been saying a lot of shit to you," I throw a cushion at Justin.

"And my dad says elders shouldn't say things like that in front of children," Justin sighs in defeat and takes her to the bathroom. After clearing the table and cleaning the mess Diane created while eating, Ariana retires to bed a little early, leaving me and Justin to get Diane ready for bed. I take her to the bathtub, and you can't imagine the barrage of questions I get.

"Now brush your teeth and go to bed."

"Why do I have to do that? My mom says it's not necessary to brush at night."

"That's not surprising because your mom didn't like brushing her teeth at night either," I murmur to myself, but she hears it. "But here, you have to brush your teeth at night, or you won't wake up tomorrow." Her mouth drops open. She rushes to the sink and gets it done. I tuck her in and turn to leave, but not until she asks me to read her a story. Apparently, she can't sleep without it because her dad has been doing it for her. I wonder how long she has known Jeremiah that she can't sleep without it. I don't even know what story to read to her. I search deep into my memory and tell her one of those Kweku Ananse stories from my primary school days. She seems to enjoy it, and before I know it, I'm dozing off along with her.