From Sofa Samurai to Saint

Greetings, laughter lovers!

Today, I am taking you on a wild ride through a tale of sofa-shredding shame and how I became as good as Agege bread (soft and sweet, you get?). Remember that rebellious phase where "cool" meant drawing mustaches on family pictures and "edgy" was synonymous with tie-dye at owambes? Nah, me neither.

Except for that one glorious, disastrous third term vacation afternoon when I accidentally turned our living room sofa into something even Louis Vuitton wouldn't design. It’s not my fault if my parents wouldn’t let me watch TV even when we’re on holiday!! Buckle up, because this story is hotter than Mama Put jollof!

So there I was, 8 years old and convinced I was the epitome of cool (more like mumu), trying to "sharpen" my pencil with a razor blade. What I needed the pencil for, I’ve got no idea because there was no way I was doing school work while on holiday. 🤣 Let's just say my coordination resembled bambi when he was born.

Next thing I know, the blade takes a detour straight into the unsuspecting cushions, leaving behind a crime scene fit for Nollywood detectives.

Naturally, the first suspect? My ever-so-slightly-less-angelic brother, Segun. Cue the waterworks, the crocodile tears, and the "But Mummy, I didn't do it! 😭 " act that would make Florence Pugh proud.

And guess what? It worked! Segun, bless his gullible soul, got punished faster than you can say " Kneel down there."

Meanwhile, yours truly was chilling in my room, whistling nonchalantly (internally freaking out), pretending the sofa wasn't morphing into a modern art installation.

But plot twist! My dear ever surprising mother, with her uncanny resemblance to Sherlock Holmes, decided to do some investigating of her own. Let's just say the trail of microscopic metal shavings led straight to my doorstep (or should I say, couch cushion?).

The punishment? Oh, it was beautiful. No grounding, no confiscated gadgets probably because I didn’t have any 😅 , just... chores. Endless, backbreaking, soul-crushing chores. I scrubbed floors till they gleamed like the Lagos lagoon after rain and folded laundry with the precision of a NY Fashion Week designer. The dishes in the sink became my best friends. By the end of that week, I was practically begging for Segun’s punishment.

That, my friends, is how I, the unintentional sofa slasher, transformed into the responsible, chore-loving individual you know and (probably, most definitely) love today. I swore that I would never be punished again. If I had to be a goody two shoes for it to happen, then so be it. So remember, sometimes the universe has a funny way of teaching you life lessons, even if it involves near-misses with razor blades and questionable interior design choices. But I still think that design looked cool tho. 😉 

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All my love,

Esther ♥️ 

P.S. If anyone has any tips on removing sofa-cushion-embedded razor blades, hit me up! Asking for a friend... (who definitely isn't planning any more "accidents 🙂 ").