What’s for dinner?
My girlfriend will always ask me that question. Every day, she just has to ask. At times I respond with a smile. At times I lie to make her feel am having a cool meal. And yes, I always get away with it.
Yesterday, I received that dinner text while returning from a soccer match. I was walking home with friends chatting about the chances that Manchester United had squandered and how Jose Mourinho will have to be shown the exit door when my phone vibrated. I smiled expecting it was the 79079 Congratulations message (if you know you know) but Boom! There she was. “Babe, so what’s for dinner today?”
I smiled. Smiled like a fool trying to think of a possible meal that men have after watching a soccer match in a pub. One of my friends noticed my smile and grabbed the phone. And that’s where it all went wrong. He read the text out loud sending the entire crew into laughter. Crazy jokes followed, changing the conversation from the game to my relationship affairs. My lady and the kitchen in this case.
“Mbai, you have grown a lot since you met this girl.” One said. “Mchuzi ni gani?” he asked.
“Ni kupikiwa!” Another said out loud. We all laughed. I tried to hold myself and keep calm but I laughed as well. I still needed to respond to that text. If you are dating you know what am talking about. (No man admires the – unafanya nini? kwanini haunijibu? – messages). Problem is, I still didn’t have my phone. Here I was caught up in a mix of mchuzi discussion.
They made fun about how an expert my girlfriend was at preparing delicious meals. For a moment, they made me feel a winner. A hero among them all. They reminded me about the chicken she had prepared during my birthday. “Bro unakumbuka vile ile kuku ilifanya tulambe mikono?”
We talked about how we literary stop concentrating when she is in the kitchen. One friend described the aroma that hits you whenever she is cooking. “Mbai najua your neighbors hushiba tu wakiskia vile kwako kunanukia mchuzi.”
“What does she do by the way?” Asked another as he gave me back the phone. I responded to the text and put the phone back in my pocket.
“She gets my iron up!” I said confidently. Every one broke into laughter again, but I cared less. They were free to think with whatever line of thought they wanted to. All led to one thing, she did get my iron up.
The thought of life without her reminds me of that stupid snack we used to receive in high school whenever we went for funkies. Why on earth would they give us half a loaf of bread and soda? Hehe!
I have made many wrongs in my life but wherever you are, I hope you know that you are one right that makes my life bright. You drop in and my friends start glowing. You are the flavor that hold us together. I know there are moments when you toss and stir my mind but my stomach will never stop to crumble at presence. Like I said, you stir up my iron.
You were right when you said a meal must taste better even before the mchuzi gets to the mouth. You were right when you said that I look better when you are part of the mix. You were right when you said with you by my side, I will grow and my friends will talk about it. And truth be told, I am sorry if by any chance I ever doubted you.
Today, they asked me if I know your mchuzi secret and they I told them to do what you always tell me. “Toss, Stir, Crumble.”
I don’t know which game we will be talking about next weekend or who’s relationship mix will be the topic but today, you somehow were the subject matter – and we spoke about you positively for that case.
They said they love how you mix it up for them whenever you are in the kitchen. It made me feel a bit jealous but am glad as far as my satisfaction is concerned, you have no competitor.