By Tony Ekata
If helping out makes me a woman wrapper
Then I crave for nothing better
If cooking the food my children would eat
And sweating and feeling the kitchen heat
Make me a woman wrapper
Maybe, just maybe I’m a super father.
Adorning the kitchen toga
Gives me a certain power
Over the shylocks at fast food joints
Who take my cash and give me points
Offering chicken fingers for the worth of one full chicken
Serving meaningless dessert when they know I’m sorrow-stricken.
Ah, that smell of curry powder!
That sound of oil sputtering
That hiss of onion sizzling
Never cease to enthrall me
Pulling me like magnet to that gourmet office
Of cabinets filled with crockery and
Fridges full of palate secrets.
Oh, that ‘thank you daddy’, ‘thank you darling’
Those looks of wonder at my ‘nice’ cooking
Will make me do it again without dithering!
So, if helping out makes me a woman wrapper
Then, I crave for nothing better.