To celebrate my dad had gotten some wine (13% alc) but I was not in the mood for wine so I took a few sips and requested for some beer (6.5% alc). Midway into the beer, he offered me rum (45% alc), I turned it down. Then the lady staying just opposite our place came in and at the spot, downed one and half glass of rum! In my head I was like, "shuo, see this tin wey I dey run from na em this chic come down like say notin dey inside." I took the challenge and after my beer, I started with the rum! Mumsi was there givin me those eye that she would give me when I was 7 if she disapproves of what I was doing in public, those eyes that says "stop that!" Me I no send am, I just throway my face.
Then it was me and popsi, the guests were gone and the guy was just jisting me about his bachelorhood and his adventures while I was downing more glasses of rum. Momsi had left the sitting room for us 'cos she disapproves of the heavy drinking. Anthony took a few wine and went to bed, so it was just me and my old man. We were gisting, laughing, demonstrating, hitting each other - a typical beer parlour setting. Gradually, I was shifting away from the realm of reality. I finished the bottle of rum and took the remaining of the only glass my dad was sipping all along, then I went to bed. But the whole drama was yet to begin.
I don't know how long it was into my sleep before I started throwing-up, can't tell what was happening except that Anthony and my dad was tending to me. My dad later told me that I was throwing up for about 2hrs 30mins. He said, after I offloaded every food in me, I started offloading the drinks, then he started getting scared. He was afraid of what would happen if the was nothing left in me to throw-up, according to him, I could start throwing-up blood. Of course, they kept it all away from momsi, they had to. In my drunken state, I could see the fear in his eyes, so I thanked him for letting me drink to stupor and sharing with me the way he did. He gave me some milk and it was all settled. I went back to bed.
It was 5am the following morning when I finally woke up. Anthony told me I messed-up everything. It was so funny to me. I was glad that finally, I had experienced what it was like to be passed out. I'm not a teetotaller, but because of my upbringing, I drink responsibly. Secretly though, I really want to experience the whole getting drunk and throwing up thingy. I couldn't be more appreciative to my pops, for letting me experience it in the security of home. When he awoke, he had a few words of advice for me. He let me know that he wouldn't be proud if he heard that I was in such a state outside home and I assured him that I would never be in such state again, ever! I plan on keeping my words.
I had a pile of bedsheets to wash while mumsi mocked me and called me a drunkard...