“you almost fell into that trap and would have ruined this atmosphere over nothing” the rebuke came
“And you life-giver enabled it to survive the winter? how many flowers do we have in this house again?”
“the winter would have finished it off anyway. And the Maranta is sprouting again so why are you whining?
Meanwhile, the past few days had been rough. Last night I had knocked off about four hours of sleep without the morphine. By 7 am, I had spent time catching up with friends around the Globe, finally finished the story I began writing weeks back and caught up on my messages. Manifested my day, had an invigorating bath, dressed up and back on my Prayer Mat for some Father-Daughter time.
Then I saw them on the floor! My precious Chinese Money plant!
Lifting the pot to examine, what I saw had my head spinning and the next thing I knew I had yanked his door open.
This same boy had smashed a big antique silvery vase last month and I chose to accept sorry and peace of mind. This, right after the winter finished off the Maranta plant from where his football stopped. My young Philodendron which defied the winter is now fighting for life because each time it attempts to hug the trellis, his football knocks it over. Until he recently met me halfway by hedging it.
“You know that I now play football against only that wall by the sofa. It was while moving the table last night that it hit the pot. You were already asleep so I could not tell you. It was not football”
“Ndo. Sorry I shouted at you” I apologised
