The One Where Belinda is a Magic CARpet

I have a little baby girl called Belinda. She's of the Vitz species
 
She's fun, she's happy,

She talks & sings & dances with me,and were together all the time.

And we laugh & clap our hands & whistle & skip in the meadows.

  

I know what you’re thinking; cars can’t be your friends. But B is special. She's my best friend! Except now you're logging off coz I'm talking about a car. Relax! You won’t hear her talk, she only talks to me!


Another thing, she's magic. She's like Herbie..you remember?

or Bumblebee..in transformers..

So like I'm a cool mix between a Racer & a Robot Warrior-which is EPIC!!!

Another thing, Belinda has secret caves in the car that can hide stuff for weeks, & you'll find them only after you've bought other stuff.

She has a dungeon in the little trunk that holds angry, noisy cavemen that hit their clubs & bang on the walls & make scary noises.

She sometimes winks if you look at her closer, and fixing the bulbs never seems to help. She's a five seater (two at the front, three in the back) but like Aladdin’s Magic Carpet, can hold pretty much any number of people-to date, eight.

And like we all have legroom, and space for one more..:-P. She has bits & pieces of her strewn all over our Nairobi potholes, but she still somehow moves.

So there was this Saturday morning; I had just dropped my friend home & was actually on the way to the mechanic when Belinda decided to flip..Literally.. 

Sorta literally.. OK she didn’t quite flip…literally…it’s sorta figuratively AND literally…ahh…I got an A-plus in English but…seems I don't quite know what literally means...

Anywho..

So she just got moody, irrational & dramatic, just like all the other pretty girls out there.

The following flashback takes place in slow motion (some of you have probably already heard it, if you were subjected to my dramatic rendition; or have read it, if you are my friend on Facebook...so hahhahh I'm tricking you :-D): 
I'm driving, humming away, I hear a burst, I ignore it & hum louder, suddenly Belinda decides she doesn't want her tire anymore-AS I'M DRIVING-& throws it across the road-AS I'm DRIVING! At what I believe was 80 or so kph/hr.

She loses control.

I careen from one opposite of the road to the other on our Trailer & StarBus filled Waiyaki Way, I'm not quite driving-Belinda is doing her own thing & I'm just wondering whether I should put up the handbrake, but I hear Bruce Willis telling me, “Remember, don't try this at home…”

…so I don't put up the handbrake, the car eventually slows on the side of the road with its nose in a bunch of bushes, and I get out, shaken, with watery stuff coming from my eyes,  and see that for the past half km I'd been driving on the bumper & hub of the car.

Then some dudes come with a tyre & ask me,"Madam,hii ni yako? (Madame, could this be your tyre?)".  Except-do you see any other confused, teary eyed female with no tyre on her car?

 Well, after snivelling for them I recovered. And Belinda is still, somehow surviving. Even when the radiator burst, or a huge nail got into the tire; even when the air conditioner doesn’t work, or the window refuses to open, or when the cavemen bashing the trunk make unbearable noise ,or the fuel finishes; B is my girl, I got her & she got me.


 (End of mush)

The One With OMG THAT'S A LARGE BABY

I must clarify,I am not a fattist.

 At all. 

I love all people-fat, thin,robust and slim,short or tall,flat footed or big footed or sasquashfooted, pretty or "OMG MY EYES THEY BURN!!",weird or boring,I love you all!!

 Physical features rarely define how I relate with you-that's a lie ofcourse..coz caucasians get very different reactions from me compared to my fellow african folk,

but I really digress. I just have a formula that I'll raise my kids on:

1) put them on a diet at the age of IMMEDIATELY,

or 

2) teach them to walk at 6months. 

Here's why.

I get parents who bring gigantic children-no offense whatsoever intended-I love those kids so much & will continue to feed 'em whatever gigantic meal their parents pack.

However when this happens:

"Here,carry my little precious angel,she's sad"..

I'm like,"Where's the forklift?"  

Then I diplomatically put them down & say,"no no were teaching them to be independent.." as I pretty much collapse under their weight.

What's even scarier is when this happens:"ooh there's teacher..baby run to her"..

*hulk like footsteps*

And then...they proceed to re-enact avengers for me..

Now perhaps you understand why I'll put my child on a diet from age newborn/will my body to produce skim-milk/teach them to walk at 6months.

Though I figure I’ll be facing other repurcussions with this...