For some reason, my father felt I was the most homely one among his daughters. So whenever he came home late from meetings and events, he was more comfortable to ask me to make eba (local Nigerian morsel) and dish soup at 1am in the night. (Lol). Something he would have been able to forfeit had it been any of my sisters. So you can say that there was a higher level of responsibility on me. Perhaps too because I am the first daughter.
So having done all that at home, I was convinced that although I wasn’t an expert in making or keeping the home, I was confident that I would do well as a wife. I love being homely anyway.
So with little or no motherly guide and the confidence of my father, I attempted my first pot of vegetable soup barely two weeks into my first marriage. My husband was away at work and I was confident to be careful to make him the perfect dinner – rice and vegetable soup. (Clenching my teeth). I was excited.
With the excitement that it came out looking good and tasting not-so-bad 🙂 , I served my husband. He ate, quietly. All went well.
So that night when I wanted to ‘play’ with my husband in bed, please imagine with me how I should have felt when his reaction toward me was – ‘while your mates are making vegetable soups without sands in it, all you know is sex’. Oooooh!
I had set out to please by schooling myself through but I guess I learnt more than how not to make a vegetable soup that night.
What’s your experience about any of your firsts?