This morning, you remembered how you felt some years ago when you were told that your cousins, Josh and Wale, would be spending their three months long break at our place. You considered the little space J and W would have to share with you and your brother. The room was too small and you two always blamed your parents for lack of foresight while putting up the structure. ‘The rooms could have been bigger or we could have more rooms for visitors,’ your brother said every time someone visited. There was a visitor’s room, but grandma was its permanent resident. *Caseclosed!* So, you started cleaning up for J and W’s arrival. You would pair for each bed and the only two sockets the room had. The one table you and your brother fought for would be shared too. You remembered that while you thought about these, all these, an idea seeped into your head. It made sense. What you remembered were the chores you and your brother have had to contend with since you returned from boarding school. The two cars to wash every morning. The dog – Peggy – to feed and clean up. Laundry… You smiled, thinking J and P would ease the burden…

You are now grown, and the only thing you remember about J and P’s visit, aside the fun you all had, was that rather than ease your burden, they swelled it. Guy/babe, that is how life happens. Most people, like you did and still do, believe that two heads, or more are always better than one. In fact, they reference it more when an assignment is about to be taken up, and they feel such assignment would fare better with more hands. I think so too but it is not always true; there are times when two heads could just be worse than one. I have proof.

Some days ago, my brother and fellow housekeeper, Bobo B, had to travel.  I returned home some weeks before this and I am sure the boy must have been thinking the arrival of the Housekeeper in Chief, which I have always been, would open more space for him to savour his sessional break. However, it happened that the reverse was the case. Mum, a teacher, leaves home early every morning hanging some left-over chores on our necks like medals. I don’t blame her really; it’s her turn to get back at us. Me, I mean. I did same to her sometime last year. So, she leaves home and unfortunately comes back to meet most of the chores, left-over chores o, undone. What do we do when she’s gone? We act like this chore and that chore should be for one person and so we pass the buck until we end up doing nothing. Was either of us the only one at home, that wouldn’t have been the case, I am sure. Hence, whenever she returns, we point accusing fingers at each other. But, you know what? I am the bad boy, most times. Bobo B could be sooooo enduring.

As I write this, Bobo B hasn’t returned, but I have been pretty effective without him. Mum, since schools are on break, has been very helpful too. There are times I wish that boy would just stay wherever he is; my days have been without any plate of buck or query being handed to me.  And that is where the moral of this post is. There are times when we should count ourselves lucky to have a partner or more in discharging a responsibility. It shouldn’t be an excuse to be lazy. If the partner happens to be diligent, we would escape being smeared with shit at the end of the work. But when the reverse is the case, we can only land our bad heads and butts, all of us, in a whirlpool of shit. So, when next you are commissioned for an assignment, have it at the back of your mind that the result may not get better with more people. What it takes to have a good result may be for you to be a good head. 

PS:
1. This post was meant to be published last week but my housekeeping thingy stood in the way. Bobo B is now back and I have been really nice to him.

2. Happy new month friends.

0 comments:

Post a Comment

About this blog

Of literature 'n' living. Me too. *winks*

Popular Posts

Follow me on Twitter

See What I'm Reading

See What I'm Reading

Featured Post

Between Death and 'I'

For Mummy EOO I His grandfather. It dawned on him that he wouldn’t want to be like the old man, as rich as he was. The name ...

Oyebanji Ayodele. Powered by Blogger.