Valentine for three…

By February 14, 2018Storyland

If I wanted that life, I could easily be a ‘baba for the girls’. Easy on the eyes, good job, great personality, many ladies have referred to me as the possible answer to their prayers. But I am all about one girl. Cynthia has been with me since before I was me. I have fond memories of her traveling to visit me in the one room I shared with three other guys while I served my country. She was the one who ironed the shirt I wore on the first day at my first job. She sent me the link advertising my current power job. When I could finally afford a place of my own, she was the one who chose the two bedrooms flat in Thomas estate where I currently reside.  The decoration screams her name, but I will have it no other way.

Another good thing about Cynthia is her simplicity and prudence. While I would like to take her on a short vacation somewhere for Valentine, she would never agree. Her reason- why spend so much on a 24-hour event when we could do much more with the money. Smart girl, my Cynthia. So, our Valentine routine is simple; a day in, just the two of us, no outing, no dates, no friends or family- just us. And it is always super cool. Until about 5 pm when my landlord and his family members return home from their offices and schools. Then everything scatters.

You see, my landlord is a polygamist,  two wives and seven children and they make the loudest noise you can imagine just going about their day. Unfortunately for me, their kitchen is just behind my bedroom window, so I am usually able to catch all the action live. If the wives are not arguing over whose turn it is to make landlord’s dinner, one child will be accusing another of stealing his drink in the fridge while another set of children are fighting over what television station to watch. On some days, I do not mind the noise, I try to mentally tune them off and enjoy the comfort of my house but not on Valentine’s day.

Three years ago, the eldest son came to borrow my spanner while Cynthia and I were watching our Valentine movie. Let’s just say he ended up watching the whole movie with us and even stayed to share his opinion of the story. Two years ago, Cynthia was trying out the ayamase recipe she just discovered for our special Valentine lunch, baba landlord’s junior wife perceived the aroma while she was picking clothes from our shared laundry line and decided to stop by to ask about the source of the aroma. We eventually shared our Valentine lunch with her.

The most annoying of all Valentine fiascos was last year’s episode. I had planned to propose to Cynthia on Valentine’s day last year. I had a selection of carefully hand-picked songs. Songs that had meant something to us at different points of our journey together. The way I envisioned it, the songs would tell a story and eventually lead to the perfect moment. Alas, Baba landlord and his family won’t allow me be great. They chose that hour of the day to have a ‘don’t forget the lyrics’  contest. The jeers and cheers from the other children as each child had his/her turn were so loud Cynthia and I could hardly hear each other, not to talk of the soft music I was playing. When I increased the volume in an attempt to drown out their noise, she decided the sound collision could not be healthy and proceeded to turn off my music player since we could control that sound. The ring immediately felt heavier in my pocket as I saw my proposal plans scatter. I eventually had to plan an entirely different proposal, this time, not situated in my home.

This year, as we look forward to our wedding, I want nothing more than to give my babe the Valentine she has always wanted- intimate, void of disturbances, focused on just us but I cannot dare hope. My landlord’s children cannot be trusted. I wonder how we will cope when we marry, all this noise and interference cannot be good for a young marriage.

As always, Cynthia saved the day. She sent me a link she had found online. It said I could fire my landlord with just 1.2 million. We knew the opportunity was for us and jumped on it.  It’s ok whatever stunt the landlord’s family pulls this year, we can’t be bothered much- we are looking forward to our happy intimate life in a house that will eventually be 100% our own.

 

Nothing says I love you like offering her peace of mind in a home that is completely yours. Make your babe happy, fire your landlord with just 1.2 million and start the rewarding journey of living in your own home.  How does it work? Find out here.