KWEZI AND I...The homecoming queen

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Kwezi and Nasra

Most parents have cute nicknames that they use to refer to their children, and in the last almost three years, I don’t remember using the ‘princess’ endearment to refer to Kwezi. Don’t get me wrong, the girl has a number of cute names that I use when I am referring to her directly or even in her absence but that is not one of them. At least as far as I remember.

Anyway, what is the point of this disclaimer? Well, as I told you before, I had sent Kwezi to my parents’ house for a mini holiday, where I wanted her to bond with them, and perhaps also see if a change in location may do wonders in terms of bringing back her appetite that has for a month disappeared with no trace. Well, she is back. The appetite is yet to be ‘found’ but she looks much better, thanks to eating every five seconds.

I am happy that she is back because I really missed her but of course there’s always a catch. While I love the fact that Kwezi gets to be pampered and fussed over at her grandparents’ house, I don’t like the kind of attitude that she comes back home with. She is literally untouchable; bringing me back to the title of today’s story. Basically, when I go to pick her up, it’s almost like I am picking up a different girl. She is the Commander in Chief, she is the CEO and she is a queen because princess is too small a title for this behaviour. What Kwezi wants, Kwezi must get. Now, the challenge that comes with this is that I am also the Commander in Chief and I don’t know how to explain to a child who is barely three years old that there can only be one of those in this household. Not that she cares anyway.

Upon us getting home, she was showering me with hugs and kisses and I seriously felt that with this kind of love, I should have another child. But as usual, I celebrate a bit too early. In an hour, she was dozing and naturally, I started the process of making her ready for bed and that’s when drama started. The girl threw her legs in the air and started kicking, alternating between crying and screaming. She wanted to go to bed on her own terms; which I didn’t know. Well, since I am the CEO in this company we call my house and she is a beneficiary and also because I don’t negotiate with “terrorists”, I just lifted her and calmly put her in her bed, switched off the light, closed the door and walked away majestically - like a boss. I even for a second felt proud of how calm I was. To undermine my one second of celebration, she just turned around and proceeded to sleep like nothing had just happened. Seriously?

Anyway, I had promised my mother that she would be going back in another 10 days but now, we perhaps need a contract. We must sit down and discuss this ‘Queendom’ behaviour first because there can only be one queen at a time.