Confessions of a Homewrecker

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been four weeks since my last confession, and these are my sins: I have broken the 7th and 10th commandment. I think I’m in love, and I think I’m a thief.

I don’t have particularly high standards, I must admit. I only ask for three things in a man, and yet, it is surprising how hard it is to find just three things in the men I meet.

I ask for honesty. Don’t lie to me. Mostly because you’ll be busted at some point when I decide to come home early and someone’s legs are around your neck. Don’t tell me you work at a big firm that you don’t work at – a girl’s spy network is only rivalled by the CIA’s, and you will be busted. Don’t try and be mine and someone else’s as well – the world is a peanut, and Nairobi is even smaller. You WILL be busted.

I ask for intelligence. Don’t be stupid. This is helpful especially if you are dishonest. Stupidity and dishonesty go together about as well as Njoki Chege and professional journalism – i.e. not at all. You’ll do some…um…ish…and then I’ll find out because you texted me instead of the side dish – not because I’ll look through your phone. Though I might. Please be able to converse – or at least have a well-thought out opinion – on a variety of topics…and if you don’t know anything about anything, be willing to learn. These topics include unhooking a bra strap with one hand, a little car knowledge, when the cheapest Imax movie is on and which politician to soundly condemn with your next Facebook status (e.g. the ones with loose hands or loose dicks – pardon my French, Father).

And finally, open mindedness. You’re not always right. And you’re not always wrong. Someone will always be able to show you a new path to enlightenment (or a better way to mix a drink, also essential in relationships…because they drive you to drink…no?). Also, I have gay friends who are very close to my heart. As prostitutes were close to Jesus’, right? I can’t do the whole homophobic male thing. Because it’s stupid. And just because I possess a vagina, doesn’t mean I can cook up a storm for your friends when they come to watch Arsenal lose…again. No, I won’t wash your underwear, unless you’re planning on washing (and sniffing?) mine. Then we can talk.

Does your face have to be an acceptable one to look at when we wake up in the morning? Looks aren’t everything, and anyone who thinks so has a blisteringly unattractive soul. Do you have to have oodles of money? Well…I have my own (or a little of my own. Sheesh. Whatever), so I have no need for yours. Must you love Jesus and thus love me as he loved the church? I only care that you are a good person. An honest, intelligent, open-minded good person, who doesn’t Bible-thump, slut-shame, or playa-hate. Hehe.

Now, like I said. It is hard to find these qualities in one man. But…I think I have found them. And I’m in love. And in the spirit of confession…I’m going to steal him away from who he’s with now.

Father, I know what you’re thinking. Or at least, I’m going to guess. You’re thinking that I’m an evil, self-serving person. Self-serving, yes. But I really can’t resist. I’m not trying to excuse my sin, but the one he is with…isn’t the one for him. And I know how that sounds too! But it’s true. He’s not appreciated. You can tell by how he looks at me longingly whenever I’m in the room. And isn’t it worth it if this person is the one? And is it really stealing if the stealee wants to be stolen?

He’s so smart. He anticipates my every need and fulfills it, whether it’s information about how to spell (and make) ‘daiquiri’ or watching throwback Ludacris videos, which is supremely sexy. Because he is so open-minded, we can talk about anything and absolutely everything. He has access to vast amounts of intellectual material, with a photographic mind to boot. And he would never, ever lie to me. His screen is an open book.

And I know…I know I said looks aren’t important. But a good looking man is such a bonus! He’s so well put together – and he always smells brand new. On top of that, he has an elegant sense of style and an in-depth understanding of clean, sleek lines. I mean, you can have a face like a dog but your packaging makes all the difference sometimes, no? You can have the best figure in the world, but if you’re dressed in a burlap sack, it’s pointless. Smart…sexy…elegant…sleek. As I’ve said before…what’s a girl not to like?

So I’m going to steal Jakom’s 48” Samsung Smart TV. Because he’s the perfect man. Lol. We’ve been saying how women do everything better than men (because they do – like running the world) and how we just need to start an Amazonian race where we keep the little rascals in labs, contained within human-sized capsules for their reproductory benefits. Everyone knows that God made man first and then we were the 2.0 version. But I think I am over this vision of an Amazonian future.

The real future is forgetting that we want anything other than a large and loving Samsung Smart TV in the middle of the sitting room. Who needs men when you can have the obvious improvement – 48” of faithful, honest, selfless sexiness who won’t talk back and always listens – for the rest of your life?

Father?

Father, are you there?

© tSN

[COVER PHOTO CREDIT: From  August Udoh‘s collection, Preach]