document.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded", function() { var body = document.body; body.classList.add("js-enabled"); }); How I bought food for my wife but pretended to have cooked it- Man shares » ‎
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How I bought food for my wife but pretended to have cooked it- Man shares

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When I met my wife at first, one of the major qualities she looked for in a man was a man who could cook.

I told her I was a professional in the business of cooking.

Me who could not even open Maggi cubes.

I told her I had spent half of my life in the kitchen cooking.

So she asked me to cook her Egusi and eba when she comes to visit me. It was going to be the first time we would be meeting.

I was filled with apprehension.

That night, I searched google.

“How to cook sweet Egusi soup that will make a fine lady fall in love with you.”

“How to Cook Egusi and Eba that taste very good and knock the brain of a lady.”

“How to mix Eba that will be soft like pillow and Egusi that will make your woman carry you up and drop on the bed.”

After searching and failing to find answers, a friend whom I had consulted directed me to a restaurant. He said they cook very delicious meals.

I went there and bought two plates of Egusi and Eba for 7k without even thinking about the price.

When my wife came, I romantically served her the tables.

I told her I had cooked it. She was so happy. She embraced me with her full chest and sat down.

I watched as she washed her hands and tasted the soup.

Then her smile disappeared.

She spat on the floor, reached for a cup of water, and drank.

Then she said to me.

“Praises if it is you that cooked this food, then God forbid. You are a bad cook.”

Ah! Headache started catching me.

I started feeling an instant fever.

I had to confess.

I told her the truth.

The whole truth.

In a bold way.

“Yes. God forbid o. I didn’t cook it o. I just bought the food from outside at one local restaurant. So the food is not even sweet seff?”

I told her the name of the restaurant and even gave her the address.

She molded the eba and dipped it in the Egusi soup.

When she tasted it, she nodded her head and said to me.

“Mmm, the restaurant food is sweet o. I just wanted to know if it was you that truly cooked it. So you didn’t cook it? How much is a plate?”

I didn’t say anything again.

I walked to the parlor and slept in peace.

That woman still has wayo till date.

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