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The other day we were having a talk with Princess; sharing on how friends and family are not into the business of sharing some stuff with us without having to remind us how we can turn anything into a story. I have a friend, whenever we are in a group, he tells the others to mind what they do or say because I might ‘broadcast them’. After doing a story on her house, how she was being deprived of sleep the day she decided to catch some, guys now think she will pull one again. Even I think that. Well, it’s good I don’t go saying things my Mum does to me. Like when I inform her of my birthday and the best she tells me is that she is busy. I am not planning to tell people about it. In fact, I won’t share it. I can’t tell on my mum, the spirits can not allow it. Well, what if she was the one doing the writing and had to write about me?

One thing that I know, if she were to keep a blog about me, she would definitely start from my birth. She won’t talk about the long nights they had before forming me, some things are better kept between the parties involved. She will dive straight to me causing her the wildest morning sickness she ever envisioned even in her wildest dreams, most definitely how she had dreamt about episodes of having me; how the thought of me growing inside her made her feel. The first time I kicked in her and how she went to share with Dad. She would go to him and tell him how his good work was kicking and strong. Then they would throw giggles at each other, as my Dad would move closer to the protruding belly to feel those kicks as well.

Some days after my birth and fast growing, she will wake up and talk about the relationships I keep. She would say how I was this soft collected kid. A kid who doesn’t pull tantrums at the wrong time and place, like a kid who throws tantrum when there is no one else in the vicinity. What is that? I mean when you want to pull a tantrum why not wait for visitors to come then pull the mother of all tantrums, you will definitely win. She would be taking the credits for making me grow in the right way. She will be talking about my first times, the first time I used potty, the first time the neighbor’s kid claimed that I hit him and the kind of talk that ensued between the parents. How I reacted when they brought home my younger brother and how after years, I would still breastfeed with my bro. I bet that explains the thing I have with boobs. You should also realize that denying me access to boobs is torture.

She must talk about my schooling life. The way I wore my school uniform for the first time ready to go to school only to return home crying that the sun was too much for me. If there is one thing that would have made me drop out of school when I was young, it was the sun. I mean if you have been to Kisumu, you understand what am talking about. I think scientists are right when they claim that the sun first hits the ground before it bounces back on us. Even though experiments rarely use human specimen, I am a walking experiment. I was able to beat the sun, am convinced nothing can stop me in my journey of knowledge acquisition now. I have this feeling that I am going to learn a lot and that I have some years of ‘class’ ahead. I also know my mum would muse over the report form talks we had. How I was a bright student (all parents thinks their kids are bright) who couldn’t just do it right, by right I mean ‘top 3.’ I do believe that explains the reasons why letters attended most of my parent days if not all.

One day she might decide to humor her readers by telling them stories of how she always won any ‘war’ between mother and son. She will talk about her eldest son asking her to pay back her debts. Debts that were actually her own money if you did a critical audit trail, therefore justifying her refusal to pay. She would write about how sometimes her attempts to instill discipline in her son were translated as wrong doings, and how she saw no point in apologizing for such moments.

How about the dreams she has for me? I do believe that parents have a given way that they picture their kids growing. They have everything laid out in their minds. How you should grow, how you will be wearing, the kind of people you should interact with, the kind of courses you will study, the life you lead and at what age. I know she would write about how worried she is that I am done with campus yet I have never taken someone home. How her efforts to try hook me up with ladies before has failed. I tell you if those attempted hook ups were to all to go through, then I would be a man of many ladies at the moment. I mean how can you afford to break a heart that is given to you by your Mum. Isn’t that the epitome of disrespect? I know she will be sharing how concerned she got when she had to inquire if my brother can be able to be laid in my house. In short, if I had chapni to officially open it. Given that she is free spirited, I don’t think she had a hard time asking, it’s only that she was getting worried I might to be slow. Which parent wishes for a slow kid for the elder son?

I know she won’t miss sharing on the way things are panning out as compared to the life she had envisioned for me. How she feels when at some point, I display the characters that shows that I am inclined to my Dad’s side. How does it feel like raising a kid she doesn’t want turning out like the love of her life? I mean how it feels when the best warning you can give to a son is, “this line that I see you take, I see you turning out like your dad.” Some days she will also talk of the times that I make her proud. The times when I do things until she feels like being a mum, to me specifically, is the best thing that ever happened to her.

I can tell you if my mum was to blog about me, the rants, the advices, the moments and just everything she would want to tell the world about me would be too much. She would name her blog something fancy like This is something she would think about daily, because she will be posting after an interval of 24hours. I know she would make many parents want to be parents and just have kids to share their lives with. She would have a good supportive audience and will be making her life from that point. She would feed me by writing about me.

Well, for now she doesn’t have a blog. She only has me. I run a blog where I can write things about her like I just did this. She doesn’t know about it just yet, she won’t even know I thought of her blogging about me. I would say my mum is more of this old school in a cool way. She is into everything modern except tech. How cool is that? My little bro knows how to take advantage of that. He once told some clingy lady trying to get to him through my Mum, “please don’t disturb my Mum, she is old, she can’t even read the texts you send her.” I won’t even have to worry about making sure we aren’t friends on social media because we never know when I can get wild. Now I am imaging when I explain to her my blog. She will tell me, “I bust my ass to pay all that money in campus for you, expecting to see you in television or the Standard and Nation only for you to come here with this joke!!” So for the sake of peace, let me keep this until I have had a good reason to present it to her. A better reason other than passion and from time to time touching lives.

All in all, if my Mum blogged about me, it would be the blog to watch for. It would give many a run for their money.