Yes, you are looking at a photo of dad spelled out in groundnut husks.
Well, I’ll start with how I’m a super mega huge fan of boiled groundnuts. The crack, the crunch, the taste just give me life. Every year, a massive festival goes on in my heart in honour of the first nuts of the season. No jokes, evidence below:
As you can see, this year was no different. Buuut accompanying the pure ecstasy of every successfully cracked pod was an introspection that brought a long-forgotten memory to the fore of my mind:
I’m seated in my dad’s office, across the massive table piled with paperwork from him. Massive because I’m not a big child. I’m not sure of my exact age, but I know my hands aren’t strong enough to crack open the pods. So, maybe 5, 6? We each have our nylon bags of the nut gold, and he’s just blazing through his. I, on the other hand, have to wait for him to open mine for me. And it’s going well. Then, I get impatient. I’m having to wait for him in between his own nut-fest. I start cracking them open with my teeth. If you’re an afficionado like me, you know there are few things worse than cracking the pods with your teeth. The groundnuts split in halves, and it’s a chore to dig them out on the sides. Sigh. So I wait. Crack, crunch…
This is my first memory of eating the hallowed food, and it is such a sweet one. It was almost starling to make the connection – my best snack is subliminally tied to my best man.
Which brings me to my status as a bonafide kept woman. I followed this reality TV show – Kept (Jerry Hall was searching for a man to ‘keep’) in my mid-teens. Unfortunately there are no good videos on YouTube but see here. I used to watch a load of TV back then, but this show was one of the silliest things ever. A kept man/woman is someone who…
However, I’m appropriating the term because it’s so fitiing. Over the past week, both my fathers (Heavenly and earthly) have shown me a constancy that exceeds what I deserve. I only hope and pray that I do their investments justice.
So yes, this is basically a father’s day post 3 days late. But can’t you just hear the lecture-y voice, ‘Don’t limit celebrating your father to one day, appreciate him every day of the year.’ So, join me as I celebrate my wonderful fathers and their keeping of me. If you didn’t do anything, its not too late. Some interesting ideas here. *strong arm emoji