My mum was a superhero

Anyways your favourite Igbo boy was revisiting his childhood a couple days back and if you aren't familiar with my antics as a child then I'll just give you a summary right now, I was a handful! If my popsy had gotten a receipt for me when I was born he'd have returned me at the age of 6! Ok I kid I kid but I was a nutter as a child. My curiousity sent me to places that only an ass whooping would keep me away from in the future. No points for guessing who dished out the regular whooping needed to keep me in line, Mama Scribbles! She was one of those Mums that as a child you could swear on your Power Rangers lunchbox that she had superpowers. As a growing pikin I believed my mum had three powers, Heat Vision, Superspeed and Telepathy and I'll tell you why.

Mumsy definitely had heat vision, that one na konfirmed gist! It manifested as microwaves that shot out of eyes and enveloped you in utter chatisement. My mumsy could glare at you from across the room and you'd immediately feel like your body was on fire, you'd start to twitch uncontrollably, you'd get sweaty and sometimes you'd just feel like the whole room was on fire! Sometimes she wouldn't even take up a cane and whoop me, all she needed to do was stare at me with her heat vision and I'd immediately feel like I was being flogged with a bamboo stick that'd been spiced with pepper and garnished with tough love. She still has the heat vision sha and it's even more powerful now cos she can send it all the way from naija and I'd feel it anyway in the world via sms, email or voicecall.

Mumsy had superspeed, her reflexes were amazing and if Spiderman thinks he's got skills cos he swings from buildings and somersaults off rooftops then he hasn't seen my mum take off a shoe, fling it as a door knob to lock the door, do a backflip and catch the shoe as it ricocheted back off the door and smack your 4yr old right ass cheek all before Terry G can say 'Free me now!' You know how you go shoping with your mum or dad in a supermarket and as they're pushing the shopping cart across the aisle you throw stuff into the cart? Well my mum made us understand that the only thing that should ever be in the shopping cart were things she put there herself. One day I tried to toss a can of Pringles into the cart and I can swear she caught it in mid-air cos the before I knew it she'd snatched it, whacked me on the head with it and placed it back on the shelf, it was a rebound even Kobe Bryant would envy. Till Today if I see Pringles in a supermarket I feel a subtle bump on my head.

Finally, mumsy was a telepath and for those of you who are running to google it simply means she could communicate with our minds without the use of speech, writing, signs or symbols. Sometimes you'll think you've beaten her and kept something from her only to be ambushed on your bed in the middle of the night and have a confession whooped out of you. When a crime was committed in the Scribbles household she always knew the culprit. Like the time someone broke the windshield of Dad's car, or the time someone left the tap on and flooded the bathroom, or the time someone singed the carpet with a pressing iron cos they'd left it on and gone to play football....if you haven't already guessed it the culprit was always me me me!

Ps: My Bday is 2moro, the 19th...it'll probably be a quiet one :)