Gynaecologist sparks angry family war

By Tony Masikonde

Last Friday, Mark did not spend the night in his house; he crashed at Brayo’s couch because of a tiff at home.

He was livid because wife unilaterally decided to change her gynaecologist from an old toothless dog to some hot looking hunk without the due vetting process.

Though Mark has no substantive evidence about his ‘accusation’, he still pissed off about some young tyke ‘undressing’ his wife.

Ceasefire

So Mark approached yours truly to help and broker some ceasefire in his home front, the reason I called up his wife.

“Hello Suzzie how is your evening?” I began, not as cocky as I would have preferred.

“Well… am ok not too good. I just hope I will not get delayed at the clinic,” she said.

“Poor thing… you deserve a good cup of coffee,” I tried to feign ignorance, not wanting to divulge too early that I already knew she had scheduled to consult what Mark refers to as ‘that randy looking doctor’.

“How was your day? The babies good? ” I probed once she had settled.

“Fine — everyone is okay,” came the curt answer. What followed was the predictable ‘these rains are too much now’ weather talk to break the ice. But realising she knew I had a pressing matter, my mind I went for the jugular.

“Well… Mark has reservations on a decision he feels you made without consulting him,” I began nervously.

“What now?” she asked, drilling me with her bulbous eyes.

“He is upset that you are taking a number of things too casually,” I mumbled unhelpfully.

“Just what is the damn thing?” she asked barely with suppressed anger.

Seeing that she was losing her patience and she has a reputation of walking out on people, I went for the slam-dunk.

“Changing your ‘gynae’ without informing him. He is not happy,” I answered with a calmness I did not feel.

Secrets

“That loser! He is not only revealing our family secrets but washing dirty underwear in public as well?” she scowled.

“Well… not exactly. He is just concerned, which means he cares,” I attempted to strike a reconciliatory tone.

“I’m I not entitled to a second medical opinion, if I so wish?” she shot back.

She was asking too many tough questions and this is not what I had signed up with Mark, but the Brothers’ Creed meant I had no choice.

So, instead of asking for the bill and bolting out of Savannah to the nearest pub to ‘detox’ this madness, here I was receiving a dressing down on behalf of a brother.

Love

“What else has he told you? At this rate, he will start discussing the colours of my innerwear with his friends,” she raged, really fired up now.

“Calm down, Suzie. Mark loves you and his concern is another manifestation of love but…”

“Love?” she yelled.

“He just needs to assured that there is no hanky panky between you and that young gynae of yours…” I stammered.

“I swear will kill that bastard when I get home,” she fumed and stalked off like an angry bull. 

Predictably, Mark did not have the courage to go home and face her — the reason he ended up snoring on Brayo’s couch.