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Mama Dante is a seventy-five years old woman who tells three memories in form of short stories; Lavender and that Lecturer, Hips and Leaves ate my money and snakes, to her chidren, Dante and Anne.
...A sigh escapes me as I stand from my seat and head to my bedroom.
“Mum.”
Dante calls out making me stop in my tracks.
“Was Mr. Martin angry because his ego couldn’t stand that the new catch was richer than him, or was he angry because he did not share?”
There is silence for a few seconds as I stare at my husband who’s seated on his favorite sofa peacefully reading a newspaper as if that little tale, has got nothing to do with him.
“I don’t know son, but Mr. Martin can answer you himself.”
Dante’s face is clouded by confusion which turns to shock as I address his father.
“Martin, answer your son.”
Martin quickly drops the newspaper in his hands and looks at me in disbelief. He gives Dante a side glance. Dante’s eyes quickly move back and forth between Martin and me. Then it hits me, aht, what have I done?
“Maybe I shouldn’t have revealed that little bit of information.”
I whisper and quickly turn away from the shocked men. Under no circumstances am I going to explain to Dante how Martin and I ended up together.
“You know Dante…”
I start as I exit the room.
“tomorrow you will forget that your father was once my lecturer when I tell you what your old uncle Alfred did.”
I laugh softly.
“How hips and leaves ate his paper.”
There is no response as I lock the bedroom door behind me. Say, dear reader, you don’t think that I just scarred my son, do you? Oh well, I will deal with it tomorrow…or not.
EXCERPT
...A sigh escapes me as I stand from my seat and head to my bedroom.
“Mum.”
Dante calls out making me stop in my tracks.
“Was Mr. Martin angry because his ego couldn’t stand that the new catch was richer than him, or was he angry because he did not share?”
There is silence for a few seconds as I stare at my husband who’s seated on his favorite sofa peacefully reading a newspaper as if that little tale, has got nothing to do with him.
“I don’t know son, but Mr. Martin can answer you himself.”
Dante’s face is clouded by confusion which turns to shock as I address his father.
“Martin, answer your son.”
Martin quickly drops the newspaper in his hands and looks at me in disbelief. He gives Dante a side glance. Dante’s eyes quickly move back and forth between Martin and me. Then it hits me, aht, what have I done?
“Maybe I shouldn’t have revealed that little bit of information.”
I whisper and quickly turn away from the shocked men. Under no circumstances am I going to explain to Dante how Martin and I ended up together.
“You know Dante…”
I start as I exit the room.
“tomorrow you will forget that your father was once my lecturer when I tell you what your old uncle Alfred did.”
I laugh softly.
“How hips and leaves ate his paper.”
There is no response as I lock the bedroom door behind me. Say, dear reader, you don’t think that I just scarred my son, do you? Oh well, I will deal with it tomorrow…or not.
