Flash Fiction, Home

I want to say Husband Material but…

37 Comments
I want to say husband material but...

I want to say he’s fine, but pointing out physical characteristics at the start of a description of a person would only emphasize close-mindedness on my side. Besides, in this frosh generation, ‘fine’ is a total understatement. With his mustache and goatee standing out in a crowd, its a wonder how he hasn’t been gunned down by supremely hungry female predators that are not me but we’ll just scratch this description out. I’m not vain.

I want to say he’s religiously open-minded, but that poses so much ambiguity, like how open-minded do I mean, you ask. He was born a Muslim, but during the first years in his high school, he got convicted into Christianity and ever since he’s been the onward Christian soldier. Ever since until that time he came back wondering why Christians keep wanting more people like they were some kind of alien abductors.

He’s even turned to what you might call a modern version of the Bible’s Saul -the Prosecutor of Christians after he embraced Judaism. I’ll just ignore those that call him an atheist since I know he’s only but a free spirit. Freely doing what his spirit thinks right. I’m sure he’ll eventually turn around.

I want to say he has an overly good sense of humor, but i get that that’s just for me to judge. To every man his own, to every me my own. He takes his jokes seriously but that makes it only funnier. He has this portable flashcard kit where he keeps his jotted jokes. The different kinds.

The jokes he would say to parents of friends, or the departmental bosses at his workplace. Well written birthday jokes. He confided in me one time about the length of time he spent composing a certain joke. I thought that was maybe supposed to be another joke. He got me there. Funny chap.

I want to say his being passionate about a lot of things makes his life filled with so many reasons to be alive. His passions, they could fill a book. Literally. It’s getting to mania levels. He loves to sing even though he’s still tone-deaf despite taking music lessons while growing up. He loves to dance, signed up for dance classes during his teenage years. His love for fashion got him into a designing trade right after his undergraduate program, but he only sews aprons. Professional aprons.

And then his fire fighting tutorials, he just wants to save lives; plumbing and woodwork classes because he’d rather do the domestic fixes himself, not minding his flair for glasses, not wood or plastic. Part-time fast food owner just to let known to the public his culinary skills, but low key struggle with having just one employee. The list goes on. They say he’s paranoid but I’ll say he’s an over-achiever :'(

I want to say he’s a social butterfly, but the butterfly is sooo feminine a term if you ask me, plus he turned down the get-together of his high school buddies for no reason at all which was weird seeing as he was the second organizer of it, all so that he could watch a rerun of Game of Thrones, an old season he had seen before. And the following week, the massive charity event he turned down, the Pechakuchahe’s exhibition at a City Hall, turned down too, this one for his baby cousin’s drama rehearsal, ordinary rehearsal.

Now I’m all just a tad bit confused because those events were designed so all temperaments (behavioral traits) would find an event to belong comfortably. My people think he’s mysteriously snobbish but I think he’s just strictly selective. Nothing wrong with that 😗

I want to say romantic, but I’ll only use that for lack of a better word to use. He goes extra lengths to be that guy. He would steal nonartificial red rose petals just to get them in my hair for dinner dates. I’m not so concerned about his stealing them, as I am about being walked out of restaurants because he never books us a table. He says booking kills the spontaneity. I’m usually half dizzy when we get a free chance somewhere. But we’re usually so cute walking together. It’s only the jealous ones that’d call him inconsiderate. What do people really know about intimacy😩

I want to say he’s everything about a good listener you could want, but there’s something itchy about the way he just listens and blinks away saying nothing. This is probably just my head looking for reasons to pick at him for being too attentive because my voice echoes back to me. I think he listens too much, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. It’s just odd. Odd in a sweet way if you don’t think too much about it. I’m sure those people that think he has that rare condition where you can sleep but still keep with your eyes open cannot get anymore envious of my situation. They want a piece of my boo they can’t get😤;)

I want to say he’s calculative because of something he did some time ago I can’t recall. All that comes to mind is that apartment he got with an outrageous advanced salary. I’ve forgiven him for that since he was only thinking about our future. Besides the apartment was confiscated by the government due to something not so important right now. But what’s important is we still get to live in my apartment together. Soon enough I’ll get done with sorting out all of his debts. Things will get better after he gets a new job. I’ll try not to give in to those people saying he’s a hobo and a slacker and a no-gooder. They are the ones that are hobos and slackers and no-gooders’😐

I want to say he’s discernible, if not objective, but that’s saying too much. He once gave up his pen during an examination to someone who claimed his ink ran out. I found out much later that he also was writing that exam and he did not have an extra pen. He almost failed that course. Talk about selflessness. Those people saying it was stupidity know so little about sacrifice. I wonder what they’ll think about the time when he renewed his DSTV subscription with the last cash he had to buy foodstuffs. Lol. His pawpaw-sized faith fuels my mustard seed faith 😳

So now I want to say…

image

….I still need more yards 😐

Check these out also

37 Comments

  3. I do like this. You have an exceptional way of writing that I love. Yeah, sometime you go over the top and you’re everywhere and nowhere in particular (not this post, some i’ve read) but this is organized, and funny, kinda.

    Angela, I keep telling you I can’t write, you write far better than me, prolly cos I can’t write satire or whatever this is.

    Kudos :*

    Reply

  5. Wife Material

    They say a guy is moved mostly by what he sees, I know and she knows too. I could tell from the way she flaunts her ass’ets all over the hall way enclosed in some almost familiar tight short nylon denim dress I had seen before. Such coincidence wasn’t new anymore cos I knew she would be there to do her ting while I try to snatch out the keys to my apartment from my pocket. I tried not to look while wondering if she had cut some materials on purpose off that quality denim dress, looking up nd desperately searching for my key. If she did, leme just be religiously sure she did, or mayb just some good reason not to miss that part where she bends to pick that mysterious pen and yeah! She did cut some quality yards off. She obviously won’t rock even a yard more.

    It mustav been voodoo cos for a rush of blood, I was stund nd turnd into a stumbling fool, stumbling my way out of the shades of gray coming from her bare shiny butts while she ensures the imaginary pen doesn’t get picked. She knows nd I know too.
    I wasn’t expecting she would smile or wave nd when she did just as my keys finally untangled itself owing to the gush of blood down there *smiles*, I brought it out waved back while I lackadaisically stepped into my apartment, cursing all the way in for not having the guts to start a convo or even smile about last night. Sitting on my favorite couch as the feeling of regret slowly encapsulated me; all I could think of was food, music nd sex. On such days, twitter would be my ideal release. Still, I would have faith even after midnight nd that was my fate.

    Waking up in Lagos aint hard, just stay close to a mosque or a bus park, the hard part is running ur mojo all day even when u haven’t got any fuel. Who cares about the fuel scarcity fuel when;
    There are lots of folks willing to have Ur job for less
    Or get to rob u in a mini skirt or some dress…
    after all we all have two balls each, well mine got smaller after last night and my mojo too nd after a quick fetish breakfast, she’s out nd am out too once again

    Once again on the streets of Lagos, with my hands akimbo, nd all of these quality materials, ragged nd scorned to shame. ‘”Chimo”! See Aso-oke, see wax, and see George; see everybody feeling sorry for me like I wore the tag “just got married” no, sorry, just got mad. Ok, cc a mad black man on a B.tech suit and tie, he might just be the next gross tin on Linda Ikeji but all I wanted was to take that ragged George home, wash, brush nd care for her.
    News flew but rumors got there first, they say;
    His fav hangout is at the market square just secs after market hours, that he likes his dustbins fresh nd he gave up his be-spoke suit for trash, he is a qualified trash.
    News came back with some angry familiar folks just as I picked the last yard of the dusty bin;
    He played strings of horse whip, she did the reggae tin nd sang songs of tribulation; I missed a heart beat on hearing the chorus so I ran after it.
    Every guy should morally desire some long yards of same quality material for dinner cloth, bed spread nd curtains irrespective of where they might find it. Right now, I do need some food here on bed…then dance to the kitchen for sm bj nd give sm head… , but who says I can’t have short yards of wife material. I won’t, if she don’t multi-task cos;
    It’s rare,
    Having just one pair,
    To hang disparately on a window,
    Oh, wait, take eet off,
    To cover my bed but my pillow,
    It aint enough,
    All these while, it stinks of rotten tomato
    nd all of the other food stuff.
    No doubt, she’s been everywhere,
    Except, she was never here.
    I still sit on my fav couch every night patiently waiting for a turn on the lucks, hoping she wud walk in rocking more yards, the high-target-phoenix type, not the china type, the Indian type, cos;
    She just mait have the criteria,
    If she checks on the right cards.
    I just mait have to say wife material,
    But I still need more yards.

    Reply

  6. WIFE MATERIAL

    They say a guy is moved mostly by what he sees, I know and she knows too. I could tell from the way she flaunts her ass’ets all over the hall way enclosed in some almost familiar tight short nylon denim dress I had seen before. Such coincidence wasn’t new anymore cos I knew she would be there to do her ting while I try to snatch out the keys to my apartment from my pocket. I tried not to look while wondering if she had cut some materials on purpose off that quality denim dress, looking up nd desperately searching for my key. If she did, leme just be religiously sure she did, or mayb just some good reason not to miss that part where she bends to pick that mysterious pen and yeah! She did cut some quality yards off. She obviously won’t rock even a yard more.
    It mustav been voodoo cos for a rush of blood, I was stund nd turnd into a stumbling fool, stumbling my way out of the shades of gray coming from her bare shiny butts while she ensures the imaginary pen doesn’t get picked. She knows nd I know too.
    I wasn’t expecting she would smile or wave nd when she did just as my keys finally untangled itself owing to the gush of blood down there *smiles*, I brought it out waved back while I lackadaisically stepped into my apartment, cursing all the way in for not having the guts to start a convo or even smile about last night. Sitting on my favorite couch as the feeling of regret slowly encapsulated me; all I could think of was food, music nd sex. On such days, twitter would be my ideal release. Still, I would have faith even after midnight nd that was my fate.
    Waking up in Lagos aint hard, just stay close to a mosque or a bus park, the hard part is running ur mojo all day even when u haven’t got any fuel. Who cares about the fuel scarcity fuel when;
    There are lots of folks willing to have Ur job for less
    Or get to rob u in a mini skirt or some dress…
    after all we all have two balls each, well mine got smaller after last night and my mojo too nd after a quick fetish breakfast, she’s out nd am out too once again
    Once again on the streets of Lagos, with my hands akimbo, nd all of these quality materials, ragged nd scorned to shame. ‘”Chimo”! See Aso-oke, see wax, and see George; see everybody feeling sorry for me like I wore the tag “just got married” no, sorry, just got mad. Ok, cc a mad black man on a B.tech suit and tie, he might just be the next gross tin on Linda Ikeji but all I wanted was to take that ragged George home, wash, brush nd care for her.
    News flew but rumors got there first, they say;
    His fav hangout is at the market square just secs after market hours, that he likes his dustbins fresh nd he gave up his be-spoke suit for trash, he is a qualified trash.
    News came back with some angry familiar folks just as I picked the last yard of the dusty bin;
    He played strings of horse whip, she did the reggae tin nd sang songs of tribulation; I missed a heart beat on hearing the chorus so I ran after it.
    Every guy should morally desire some long yards of same quality material for dinner cloth, bed spread nd curtains irrespective of where they might find it. Right now, I do need some food here on bed…then dance to the kitchen for sm bj nd give sm head… , but who says I can’t have short yards of wife material. I won’t, if she don’t multi-task cos;
    It’s rare,
    Having just one pair,
    To hang disparately on a window,
    Oh, wait, take eet off,
    To cover my bed but my pillow,
    It aint enough,
    All these while, it stinks of rotten tomato
    nd all of the other food stuff.
    No doubt, she’s been everywhere,
    Except, she was never here.
    I still sit on my fav couch every night patiently waiting for a turn on the lucks, hoping she wud walk in rocking more yards, the high-target-phoenix type, not the china type, the Indian type, cos;
    She just mait have the criteria,
    If she checks on the right cards.
    I just mait have to say wife material,
    But I still need more yards.

    Reply

  7. I enjoyed reading this well-written post, there was humour and I liked it. “…portable flash card kit where he keeps his jotted jokes” really cracked me up XD

    Ah! The checklists we make with all the preferred attributes of the ideal spouse. I’m reminded of a line from the movie- The 5-year engagement – “Your dad and I are only 60% right for each other but he is the love of my life.” 🙂

    Reply
  21. Pingback: I want to say Husband Material but… | GORGEOUSNANCY
  22. Pingback: He suspected his wife to be bisexual so he arranged for a lie detector test! – Idle head
  23. Pingback: There’s Something About Writing -

Share your thoughts please