I don’t know what I did wrong, but my wife has signed my impeachment notice. And she’s threatening to go ahead with the ‘process’ – due or undue. Well, I don’t know how to stop her and I don’t really have the strength to boast one minute and beg soon after. Still, I hereby declare wifey’s action illegal, unconstitutional, unlawful, illegitimate, null, illicit, void, dishonest, unauthorized and, hey…please, lend me more grammatical pleading expressions. Okay, my wife’s action is ‘totally unacceptable’, improper, annulled, invalid, cancelled, negated, illogical, worthless, ultra vires and, well, ultramodern! Phew! I need to catch my breath, please! ‘Ultramodern’ because, going by our latest democratic inventions, she doesn’t need any ‘seconder’ to her motion.
You see, there are three resident ‘women’ in my house –wifey and my two girls. But wifey managed to arrive at ‘one-third’ of the House - signing the eviction notice alone. Yet, despite the illegality, my two boys gave her full backing.
She complains sometimes because I read the newspaper inside the toilet. One of the impeachable offences she claims I’ve committed is that my toilet is the biggest in our house - as if that means I eat more than everybody! ...That’s the only precedence my wife needed to sign my impeachment notice all by herself in utter disregard to the constitution of our House, which states in Section 1, subsection ‘00’ that I remain the headache, sorry, head of the House. Okay, since she served me impeachment notice to park out of my room, I have refused to fuel her car. Now, she pushes the thing half-way to work and finishes the trip on foot. Serves her right!
You see, impeachment is not the problem. But due process. If I must be impeached from my room, my daughters too must vote or I stage a one-man protest - with colourful placards and hashtags!! Both religion and the society expect me to pick the family bills. Based on that expectation, I should be as unimpeachable as Trump at the Senate. Like the king, I should do no wrong, even if I use all the family account to farm poultry... is anything wrong with poultry, anyway?
My second impeachable offence, according to wifey, is that I’ve never cooked for the family. Well, I once promised to cook for her. But it was not my fault that the chicken I wanted to cook ran away on Christmas Day. Another day, she insisted on ‘fresh fish’, so I gave her one big, live fish! That’s when the actual problem started because she said I did not cook it. But if I cook a ‘fresh fish’, would it still be ‘fresh’? In any case, I’ve been ‘cooking’ water – at least, for my bath. Well, that' still cooking something...
My third impeachable offence is that I snore. Usually, the complain comes in the night. Yet, when I try to sleep in the daytime, I am forced to go out to work. Or listen to innumerable complains from Eddy, my three-year-old girl. Now, I’ve challenged wifey to provide evidence that I snore but she can’t. She can’t show me a picture of me snoring. Okay, she tried once... Took my picture while I was dreaming of driving a Bugatti. But, apparently, the ‘snore’ and my dream had crawled out of the picture. The only thing left was my then helpless and ‘useless’ self! I, however, confess that I’m not sure I don’t snore. I intend to keep awake one night so I can ‘catch’ myself snoring.
Well, I’m told that wifey is planning to add another damning allegation – that I bedwet! But let me quickly debunk that allegation because (1) I don’t usually sleep on bed. Besides, if two of us sleep on the same bed – and wake wet in the morning - how do you identify who pissed? I guess that’s the question the panel would have to consider. (2) If I’m guilty of wetting anything, it should be the bathtub. And my clothes – while ironing.
Another offence, for which I’m supposed to lose my room, is that I opened a family account in my name. But if I’m the head of the family – which is why my head is so big – isn’t it logical that I should keep the family money in my bank? But, God knows that I did whatever I did in the ‘national interest’ - expanding the purse of the House... and my pocket! Problem is, nobody seems to believe me. To complete the coup, wifey appointed her mum and mine into a ‘2-woman panel’ to look into my case. If they are only going to ‘look’, I would not worry. Those old women would pass judgment on me without even reading any of the charges. You know why? I can’t remember the last time I sent them money.
That’s my objection to the constitution of the panel. I hope she doesn’t move to declare ‘state-of-emergency’ in my house.
But is anybody really listening or am I on my own?
How should I handle this now?
Do you have three wives?