I once told my mom I was expecting a baby.
– Wait, wait, let me explain.
It was a series of unfortunate misunderstandings. I knew no better (than to tell my mother that she would be a grandparent, you might ask).
And get this: I was in grade one.
[These Soweto kids are quick, eh?] – Wait, let me explain.
Suffering from a nagging stomach ache on a sunny Johannesburg day at Fairways Primary School, I confessed my agony to one of my close friends. I was so grateful to have an attentive ear listen to me bearing all about the pain I was in.
I got what I perceived to be sound advice and followed it to the tee. I wasn’t feeling any better by the time I got home in the mid-afternoon.
My tummy was still sore when my mother arrived from work that evening. She gave a familiar sigh as she sat on the couch, placed her spectacles on the table and rubbed her eyes groggily. It must have been a long day.
“How are you, lollipop?” she asked. [My mother still calls me that when she wants to taunt me – and she usually does so when I am in the company of a lass. Imagine… Lollipop? I cringe].
I went on a very brief tangent about how horrible my day had been. Then I looked her squarely in the eyes and said it, as advised by my friend:
“Mommy, I’m pregnant.”
That was one of the swiftest transitions from sleepy to hysterical. Ever.
“You’re WHAT?” she quizzed, fighting off fits of laughter. She didn’t even give me a chance to repeat myself. Instead, she summoned my father, brother and older sister to indulge in what was clearly a moment they savoured.
I didn’t think it was that funny. I was seven, confused and had a sore tummy. I was pregnant by my understanding, for goodness sake. That’s what my friend had told me. These people were laughing at me!
After a few minutes in which I repeated my pregnancy declaration a couple of times [to more roaring laughter], my mother finally gathered herself and explained what pregnancy really was. And also that tiny fact involving women who carry babies.
All I wanted at that point was a normal tummy.
I felt so betrayed. Why did my friend tell me I was pregnant?
I ignored him for a few days, just like I will ignore to mention his name in this post. That bloke is still out there and still responsible for that mini-humiliation I endured all those years ago.
Crazy memories. I’ve decided to let you in on a series of extremely awkward moments in my formative years.
Welcome to the awkward childhood series. I’m not sure when I’ll give you another one from those archives.
The focus now turns back to Rhodes and hopefully a kick-start to the stand-up comedy stint of 2012.
8 thoughts on “My awkward childhood: My baby”
Lollipop lol! That’s just too cute Tyson!
Depends on the timing 🙂
Its some weird akward tale its a good one Mr Ngubeni
Thanks for checking the blog out, Mr Ramawa 🙂
lmao! i don’t know if you being called Lollipop or if you thinking you were pregnant is funnier :’D
There’s a little part of me that regrets posting this. Just a little 🙂
What a lovely tale, I’m so happy that you weren’t in fact pregnant 😉
It’s difficult enough delivering a 13 y/o’s infant… I don’t even want to consider the possibility of a seven year old. Or a male!
I’m gonna enjoy this awkward childhood series for sure.
I sure am glad there isn’t a mini-me running around as well 😛
Imagine the attitude I’d be getting! 7 years older than my own kid 😛
Bizarre 😛 hehehe