Chapter 4 HEARTS AT STAKE – FOUR

HEARTS AT STAKE – FOUR

"Did we ever separate?" she asked.

"I won't answer that one. Those younger than us, the children are listening," Oswald replied. "Besides I was and I am such a beast when I close the bedroom door. How could I survive if we separated ______?"

He and she had to wait for the laughter and handclaps to subside.

"And don't bring up disagreements and petty issues before you sleep," Bridget interjected. "The bedroom is for cozy comforts and reaching the third heaven not for reminders of bad things. You spend more than eight hours either in the bedroom sleeping or within home territory. So make the home interior conducive. Learn what is called spooning and cuddling when you sleep. That way you create comfort for one another. Two are better than one always remember. The other can correct the first's mistakes. Even penguins go by couples raising their chick in turns, freezing in the winter slit just to be parents. God created a wise system of a parent and their substitute. Blessed are the children with both still standing together and alive! God is great and wonderful to give every child a parent plus another one for spare!"

"Amen!"

"The bedroom is for romance starting from chocolates, toffies, mints, cough drops, ice cream and other cordials. Splash ice cream over her tits and wipe it off with your tongue," Oswald was explaining.

There rose a roar like that of a river in flood after which there were hand claps. A rural bred and born would have supposed there were cattle or other livestock on account of the whistles coming through.

"You can use your tongues for better things that shouting at your wife constantly."

"Oswald?"

"Yap Bridget?" he asked.

"These couples come in different sizes, some the husband is the giant and the wife is the midget or the reverse."

"Some are equal, short to short and tall to tall, your point honey?" Oswald asked.

"He washes the dishes while she dries them. After that do a wet dish towel fight?"

"Not too wet because that hurts," Oswald said. "I have experience for that. Chase her all the way then lift her up into the operating theatre of dreams and walla!"

There were hand claps and whistles.

"How long does it take to do dish towel or pillow fights?" Bridget asked.

"Less time than arguing. You don't need to think of jibes while towel or dish fighting."

"And what does it costs?" she asked.

"A new pillow and dish towel once in a while. The neighbours will never know about those dirty secrets."

"Very minimal or almost nothing."

"Imagine," Bridget suggested. "A wife walks into the bedroom to sleep. There under her pillow is a new pair of ladies canvas or leather shoes. Why don't you know your wife's shoe size yet you know the office assistant's bra size?"

"Can any man other than me answer that?" Oswald asked to which there was laughter and giggling. "In the theatre of dreams, remove those bras either fast or in slow motion, whatever suits you. I tell you, you will make it to your 40th marital anniversary."

"Was there anything else?" she asked.

"I look forward to our 40th wedding anniversary."

"Anything else besides that?" she asked.

"She tells him to raise his hands. She meticulously shaves his dirty armpits. Remember by virtue of being 'an suitable helper', the wife is the health inspector of the house. I remember my mother telling me there would be no sadza and roast beef with green vegetables if I didn't trim my fingernails. She, the wife should inspect every nook and cranny of his body and that of his offspring. She cuts his nails. She messages him. She will see supervise him doing the reverse too," he replied. "She should have a shaving machine to trim the beard and order him to have his hair cut. Remember after shaving, you need shaving cream for his beard and ice cream for her, um ah what was I saying?""

"She needs his long hair to hold onto when reaching the _____, you know."

"Ouch that's why I keep a bald head. Is that why all these young men shave their heads?"

"Just make sure the kids are sleeping. That is the reason why you men were made broad in the shoulders so that a lady can really hold on ____."

Laughter.

"Or make sure that the grandchildren are sleeping," Oswald replied. "We don't want them telling adult secrets at crèche do we?"

"Or the great grandchildren," she replied.

"I think we fully answered our preferred question. Thank you ladies and gentlemen. Me and my homing female pigeon are done for now. However, I am not yet a great grandfather. I do not wish to retire from procreation or any activity related with it."

____________________________________

"My name is Michael or Mike for short. My wife is called Tatenda or Ta for short. Our children call us Mita," the next couple had started.

They were almost of the same height, short and slightly stout especially the lady. Her hair do and high heeled shoes made her look more radiant and seem taller than her husband. The rear of her head appeared with twists and turns of hair that ended up looking like jutting precipices.

"Our question for discussion was or is 'Whose is the bedroom'? I guess they are asking if the bedroom is a feminine or masculine, vroom, the sound of a vehicle, 3.2 direct diesel fuel injection vehicle. I guess they are asking if there is more of bass tinged music or tenor/soprano type of music."

"Does it mean you don't like the 1.8-litre petrol we have?" she asked.

"The small engine reminds me of you and your structure," Michael had replied.

"I didn't hear that," she replied. Laughter subsided. "Besides which I don't consider myself to be a small engine. If I am, had it been allowed, I can outperform the so called big engines."

"I like our vehicle."

"A 3.2-litre diesel engine can belong to any of us. There are ladies that like wheels too. Did you ever hear the Toyota Hilux Vigo VVT being described in feminine or masculine colours?" she asked.

"I know of a sky blue one."

"I meant feminine or masculine as you had initiated. Toyota and all vehicle manufacturers including the laidback former Soviet ones knows that there are a lot of us ladies that dream on cars just that Toyota Hilux Vigo VVT vehicle as an example to show that there need be no vroom in the bedroom. It could easily identify with me except that I am chic enough not to park in the bedroom."

"Yeah," Michael had responded. "I know you are not. I meant the sound from the flat screen hanging on the wall."

"Or shhhhh the sound of a pan frying with hot oil."

"A pan can easily be me too doing wonders for you honey."

"Alright whose is it?" Tatenda asked. "Besides the fact that when you cook you seem to think I grew up in Asia so you put too much chilli, salt, onions and the soup is too heavy."

"The Toyota Hilux Vigo or the well-furnished bedroom?" she asked. "So what do we have?"

"Let's start with the bedroom. Toyota does not make furnishings neither does it produce bedrooms too," suggested Michael. "Ours?"

"Okay," Tatenda replied. "All this while I thought it was mine and yours. You come in like a lion with a pride of females to check if the lioness was in heat."

"I don't have a harem. The last time I checked, the bishop gave me a verse against that. Every time I wake up and you tell me I was murmuring in my sleep, I am afraid of saying out all the female lionesses' names."

"Neither do I have two men to love," she replied. "However I would have liked to be a lioness, lying down with head raised up watching you and three males fighting for breeding rights."

"When she concedes like that she means to counter attack," Michael reasoned.

"First and foremost," Tatenda began with zeal. "We spend about eight hours asleep or tossing in bed."

"One third of a day."

"Then there is the time you spend in the bedroom dressing up, looking into the mirror, thinking and things like that," she added. "Then there is the time you take afternoon siesta well-earned too when the whole body is functioning well. Then as you grow older with children turning to teens you hook the flat screen television and decoder in the bedroom to escape the Nickelodeon Channels."

"Let's say ten," replied Michael.

"So this is a room that should show love and comfort. This is where you spend almost half a day in. It should be decorated and lovely to be in. The ladies whom I let in always commend me for my choice of matching or contrasting colours. The curtains, the sun filters, the duvets, the comforters, the bed spreads and the night frills should show a story," she replied. "If you have the blessing and good fortune of having an own house, the windows should be French, wide and letting both air and light in."

"I don't smoke so why do you need much air to circulate inside the bedroom for?" he asked.

"Your socks and shoes do smell," she impressed two fingers on her nose.

"It's funny how men's socks and their shoes smell after marriage when they didn't smile while dating."

"You were mostly barefoot or you wore sandals."

"Back to the question," Michael suggested.

"If the house is yours, hook up a ceiling fan for those moments between September and April when the weather can be dry, the wind still and the heat seems to be coming out of a furnace blasting pig iron. Make sure there is a wide mosquito net too, I hate touching the net when I am asleep. The respite from the heat only comes in when there is a freak storm or it's going to rain."

"If she had done that to her ears, I would have told you a joke about SaManyika," Michael suggested.

"I am listening."

"And there should be a television set, a decoder, a DVD player, radio and a desktop computer for the men's cave for him," he advised. "Him now means me and I represent the gentlemen here."

"Maybe. But do we call a computer desktop furniture or furnishings?" she asked.

"You tell me."

"I am yet to hear of a lady who did soft furnishings for dressing bedroom computers."

"Neither am I to hear of a man typing or programming a duvet."

"Really?"

"But I do also spend time in the bedroom," he complained. "It doesn't mean I should behave like a male lion patrolling his harem's territory checking for visible signs of being in heat."

"When did you last buy a set of pyjamas?" she changed tact.

"Years ago."

"No man should buy pyjamas or even briefs and socks. That is my territory right in the bedroom. Early in our fifteen year marriage he used to buy pyjamas thinking he was great. He always found them, on the floor. I had removed them completely while he was sleeping."

"So it was you? I asked a prophet. He told me it was black magic! Oh my $5. I should have known. I was told not to trust madzibaba. Do you hate men in pyjamas?"

"No."

"Then why was I tortured?"

"Every article of clothing for the night from pyjamas, gown, slippers, shorts and others are a woman's territory. That includes his choice of jersey, cardigan or winter jackets or business suit. Anything that belongs to the bedroom and is stowed in a built in wardrobe, rake or wherever therein that he wears is my territory. Gone are the days when jerseys had to be one colour as if he was wearing roses for a wedding."

"Is the opposite true?"

"No."

"I thought as much. I have never tried those high heeled winter boots that make you grown eight centimetres taller than me. And me?"

"You just get drained of energy when the time comes," she had the assembly in stitches. "Secondly, I never kiss you while wearing high heels. I would have to look down on you. I last did that on our wedding. Did we leave anything?"

"There were left overs at the wedding."

"I meant did we leave anything from our question?"

"We were talking of the main bedroom only or all the bedrooms including the visitors' wings if you have a house big enough?"

"Even the kids' bedrooms should have the touch of the parents. No kid bangs the door on me or him! No kid writes a 'don't disturb sign'. They have to learn, work and play. Don't talk of rights if they need to be responsible adults. They should clean their own room and not the maid!"

"Bed wetting wasn't mentioned."

"I don't think there are any couple here with that problem sweet."

"The kids! Their bedroom smells like the urinary!"

"Great, a piece of advice. If you wake the child up around ten thirty in the evening and around three in the morning they won't bed wet. Besides they will get so used to the schedule. They will wake up when their bladders are full."

"I think we can show them how to hug, French kiss and stare into each other's eyes before we go down."

"You would end up horny honey."

"I think our speech is over. It is customary to do that," he replied.

"Any questions or comments?" she asked after which when these had been answered, the couple hugged, kissed and walked down to applause.

The husband did air punches with other men. He walked back to their corner while the women did palm slapping.

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