Growing up, my immediate elder brother ate a lot, like a hoodlum. Maybe food-lum best describes him. It doesn't matter how many times he had eaten in a day, he could never say no to food.
He was the one who always finished his food first, but not let go of his spoon. He'd sit there with a pitiful look on his face watching the rest of us eat until anyone called him to join them. No one ate half as much as he did. Say we cook six cups of rice, Mr foodlum eats three cups and still complains of not getting enough to eat.
Bring your known god of food while I bring him. Your man would not hold a candle to him.
One good thing for him was, while the rest of us had skinny frames, he was well built. Two days without feeding well(his definition of that) and he'll be all head and stomach. My parents tried various means to get him to at least eat like a human to no avail.
And then one day, my father tried something. Knowing my brother could never look the other way when food was involved, he bought suya(meat cooked over a fireplace) ate some and just kept the rest on the floor as though he had thrown it away. As the chief scavenger that my bro was, he dived the suya nylon and luckily for him, there was a few pieces of the meat there.
The rest of us begged him for some but he refused to give. Greedy ass!
He was smiling from ear to ear when my father shouted, "who ate the suya I put rat poison and kept on the floor?"
I froze.
I looked at my brother, he looked at me. My heart sank. He was shaking in fright. I went over to sit beside him and he whispered saying, "so this is how I would be called to glory at fifteen?" He was sweating and I could see that the pores on his hands were erect too.
My father then said, "okay, since no one ate it, maybe the rats have eaten it. It's good. I just hope they die where we can easily locate them."
My bro did not say a word. That night, surprisingly, he refused to eat. All these while, my father sat at a corner singing. No one suspected anything. That night, the house was cold and quiet. Only my parents talked.
When we awoke the next morning, my bro was still there. Hale and hearty. That was when we knew there had been foulplay. We began to laugh and recount the occurrence of the previous day. My bro, the foodlum, said that when he woke up, he expected to see fire burning everywhere because he knew there was no way he was making heaven.
Well, my father's strategy worked. But not for long. A week later, my bro was back to being his foodie self. This time, a higher eating level was unlocked.
We're all grown men now and it's hilarious to recall his foodie days. What am I even saying? When it concerns food, I can't talk of that guy's doings in past tense. Man hasn't changed. Old soldier never dies! He's much worse now.
These days, we all tease him saying we feel pity in advance for his kids because we know he'll be eating their food. Man would rather not have them eat then go hungry.
LMAO!
Thanks for stopping by
SOKA馃枻