My YouTube Prince

Chapter Twenty-three

Yinka’s POV

The clanking sound of cutlery against plate echoed through the dining room as I walked in. I found my father seated at the head of the table dressed in a casual pink golf polo and matching shorts. The dining table was filled with silver wares containing a variety of dishes.

“Good morning, dad” I greeted as I approached the dining chair to his left.

“Morning” he replied, looking up from his plate

It’s been a while I had seen my dad relaxed and eating breakfast in a casual manner since I got back. Most of the time, he was already out of the house before I came down.

He had a pair of thinly rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Age and mostly stress was catching up to him, taking a toll on his hair line and clearing out a spot atop his head. He was a healthy eater, very particular about his physical state so he looked mostly fit and agile for his age.

“What’s going on? Any special occasions” I asked as I placed myself on the chair

“How do you mean?” He asked, clearly not catching my drift.

“I mean, I would have thought you’d be on your way to the office or something” I replied, eyeing the food on his plate, wanting to get an idea what today’s breakfast was all about.

“Oh” he gently reclined on his chair, took off his glasses and placed it carefully beside his plate. “Well, your mother insisted I stay back and have breakfast as a family. You know how she is about eating together”

I chuckled.

My mother derived pleasure in having all of us seated at the table, eating our food as a family and exchanging small talk. It was evident that she would have loved it, if the family was larger than it is.

“I’ll be travelling to Abuja later this afternoon” He added. “I have a conference to attend early tomorrow. I would’ve left this morning but she was like ‘What’s the rush?’”

“Are you people talking about me?” My mother voiced out emerging from the kitchen holding another silverware dish.

She placed it gently on the table and lifted the lid. Hot steam escaped the plate, clearing up for green vegetables to appear. There were two large loaves of bread, a silverware containing egg sauce that my mom preferred, another with boiled eggs, a carton of fresh milk, freshly brewed coffee all set out on the table.

This is way too much for just three people.

She picked up a large dish spoon and served a sizeable amount of vegetables unto my dad’s plate.

“O ti to” he held up his hand when my mother tried to serve up another spoon. (That’s enough)

“Are you interested?” she gestured to the plate and I shook my head no.

“Why? Have some, it’s good for the system” she said as she walked around my father’s chair and made her way to my side.

“Why ask him if you’re still going to make him eat it” my father pointed out

“I’m not making him do anything. It’s good for his system” she defended
She placed a spoon of vegetables on my empty plate before heading back to my dad’s right hand. Few minutes later, we were all settled down, slowly devouring the food on our plates.

“So…” My father began, his eyes directed at me. “What’s your plan?”

“What plan?” I said taking a quick gulp of my tea.

He briefly glanced at my mother and leaned forward in his seat, returning his gaze to me. “I mean, what do you plan to be doing while you’re here in Nigeria? Or are you just going to be gallivanting about?”