This house is not big enough...

Despite various mishaps, accidents and other "occurrences" it would be fair to say that I had a charmed life growing up. I was the Prince of my own Castle, the Lord of the Manor, the Boy in the Hood. Until that is one day, when I was five years old, I heard a strange noise coming from my mother's room. It sounded like something I might have overheard on TV. It was a high piercing wail. It was the sound of a baby crying. I ventured into the room and was confronted by a wrinkled thing wrapped up in a blanked being cradled by my mother. She was singing to this alien and it was quite obvious that the alien was enjoying the attention. Hmm. This was not good oh. This was my territory. What was going on here. Yea sure mum had told me she was going into hospital to have another baby but I had never expected her to bring it home. After all she already had me. Aha, what is this? From that day the die was cast. I had to get rid of the competition.

However, the plan could not be implemented as quickly as expected as the "intruder" was never alone for more than a few minutes before my mother, aunt, relative, grannies etc were holding and hugging and kissing and stroking her. These traitors. Not too long ago they were telling me I was the light of their life. Now look at them. They barely even greeted me before rushing over to coo over "it". Okay. no problem. Wait and see sha.

I was patient. I waited. Coiled like a cobra ever ready to strike given the right opportunity. I knew my time would come. And so it was that we moved into our new place in Bode Thomas and my dad kitted it out with all the latest electrics and electronics. Due to my "inquisitive" (poke nose, amebo) nature I discovered that the new fridge that was delivered had a slight fault. If you touched the button that switched the light on and off when the door was opened\closed you would get an almighty shock. I know this for a fact because I carried out extensive tests on it.

By this time I was ten and my sister five and it would appear that her appeal was wearing off as she was sometimes left to wander around the house unescorted. Having tried and failed to trip her down the stairs, drown her in the bath, leave the front gate open and encouraging her to wander off, closed the balcony door on her head "accidentally" and other minor methods I decided there was only one thing left. Homegirl had to be refrigerated. This of course had to be carefully planned to ensure that I was absolved of any involvement. So in my cunning, devious mind I created a game for us to play. For argument's sake let's call it "push the button". This is how it worked. Whenever my sister was upstairs with me unescorted I would head over to the fridge and push the button then throw myself to the floor, laughing hysterically as to how much fun I was having.

After several weeks of this (I tell you that girl sef is cruel, why did she not catch on sooner. If I was not careful I could have ended up frying myself), she finally started to show real interest in having as much fun as I was. Then came the fateful afternoon. I could see her studying the fridge and knew exactly what was coming. So I sauntered over, after a quick recon to ensure a lack of adult interference, and got myself a coke from the fridge and just happened to leave the door slightly open ( just in case she did not have enough strength to open it herself. Considerate or what? Please save you praise till later oh). I then dashed into my room, grabbed a comic, switched the TV on as loud as possible and waited.

Sure enough within one minute all hell broke loose. The silly girl had not only pushed the button , she had held on to it so long she had got a good dose of shocking. Tina Turner sef for run if to say she saw the girl's hair that day. He he. The only problem was that she was now screaming the house down and every adult within a 50 mile radius was descending on the fridge area. "What happened? What happened?" They were all yelling at her. It took her a good 15 minutes to be able to tell them that the fridge had shocked her ( I am convinced she was just soaking up the attention). There was much sympathy for her ordeal and I also showed extreme compassion for the sorry fate that had befallen my dearest sister as my mother watched me closely with that her fish eye like "hmm I know I cannot prove anything at this moment but I am sure you are somehow involved". Naturally I avoided her gaze, whilst trying not to wet myself with laughter.

After a while I decided to extricate myself from the mob and was just about to enter my room when I heard the five words that would change my perspective on life as well as the colour of my bottom "Toks made me do it". "Ah ha" my mother was over like a flash and this time there was no avoiding the fish eye as it was only about two inches away from mine. I, of course denied all knowledge and explained that I might have accidentally left the fridge door open. As to how the stupid girl came to play with that dangerous button, God only knows. Allah help us. Jesus in his Infinite mercy give her common sense Etc., Etc. This one no wash like Omo with mother as I was regaled with forward slap and backslap and even some slaps that have yet to be named.

I was seething. I mean what the heck. This trouble maker getting me whipped as if I was not doing a good job of that myself already. I could see from her face she was really enjoying my downfall because now her crying was mixed with laughter, but trust me I got my own back. This was how she came to play a new game I invented called "stick this knife in the electric socket but make sure I am out of the house first". Who did she think she was messing with? Nonsense.