The kids had been tucked in bed. The Man had turned in early as he was nursing a cold. The laundry had been hung up to dry. The house was quiet. At last.
I sprung into action. Impatiently jerking the fridge door open, I made a grab for the remaining bar of chocolate, exactly where I last left it. Slamming the door shut, I held the chocolate reverently in my cupped hands for the 2 strides it took me to reach the kitchen basin. I immediately pulled off the paper wrapper and flung it unceremoniously on the countertop. With shaking hands, I tried to break the cold bar of chocolate into smaller pieces. I failed. I tried again, channelling all my strength onto my thumbs and straining against the bar.
It was no use. Giving up, I simply ripped the foil off the 4 squares of chocolate and bit down hard into it. I only managed to scrap some bits off the chocolate. I sat down on the kids’ stool and stared out of the kitchen window, while my teeth and hand were working crazily fast to send as much chocolate as possible into my mouth. I didn’t bother to savour the chocolate and letting it melt slowly in my mouth. I just chewed the chocolate into mash and swallowed it. Again and again. I had melted chocolate at the side of my mouth and all over my fingers; I didn’t care. All I cared was to eat all the chocolate. Fast.
It was over in seconds. I snapped out of the frenzy. Looking down at the chocolate smeared on my fingers, I realised I have a problem. And the problem stems from my inadequacies.
Becoming a parent changed my life in more ways than I initially figured out. As the kids are growing older, my inadequacies are being magnified at the same time. In short, I’m lousy at being a parent.
I cannot get the kids to obey me; I have no authority. I get no respect. My bad temper worsens. My patience is stretched. The list just goes on and on. I don’t know what to do. At the same time, I work harder at maintenance; the menial work, the hygiene factor stuff. At the end of the day, I open the fridge and feel like eating everything in sight. Especially the chocolate. You at home have been warned: hands off that bar of chocolate. It’s mine, I need it, you don’t…