Full Circle: Andizi! My body is not for broke, childish men

By Kuli Roberts

Johannesburg – Instead of his loud obnoxious self, my man has been quiet and demure in the past 48 hours.

Not pensive like he is in pain, but a look of bewilderment seems to be his latest look.

Obviously, I pretended not to notice that the love of my life and father of my babies was quiet and suffering in silence.

I ignored him because I figured it meant more talking for me. Some time to myself to pretend to introspect, as well as an opportunity to be left alone.

He continued skulking and sulking around the house on a Sunday and not bragging about his LV – new money.

But after ignoring his new-found morbid state, I thought it could be humorous to discover the cause of his sadness, which I knew very well was as a result of Black Friday madness.

Whether online or at our local mall, he had exhausted his funds and was sulking as he expected me to ask him why we needed another lawnmower when we had a garden service contract?

He was not his usual boisterous, no shirt-wearing self, but miserable in a turtle neck in summer.

But I said nothing as he tried to find different excuses from last year for the computer deal which included a watch similar to the others he ignores. The man bought a motorcycle because it was half price – he doesn’t even drive.

I hated seeing him look so remorseful as he was still going to pay for my car instalments, actually, it’s his second car as he is the type who watches you cutting ribbons while knowing it’s his.

So, since it was his, so was its maintenance and petrol, as I never entertained Black Friday and he was not getting out of his routine and was still going to pay for my spa, wig or anything to make me appear more appealing as he found me sizzling.

Instead of putting money away for our youngest’s university fees, my man had bought golf equipment. This same man who used to ask me to call him “big daddy”, or ask me if he was the best I ever had, was a shadow of his former self, deflated and even thinner in two days. He even bought sneakers, five pairs, because they were on sale, and he insisted his feet would not grow and he could wear them next year.

Of course, I was not letting this deflated man touch me. His brokenness could be contagious and his brokenness was not our problem but his.

Instead of whisky, he could drink water and he was definitely not going to be ridden like a pony, as that would be demeaning for my body.

On that topic, this broke man would never touch my body, as sleeping with broke men leads to low self-esteem. Even his voice seemed softer. No more full of vigour and life.

Overspending has left him pathetic because he forgot about the family and concentrated on his wants, not needs. Trying to impress his mates with toys for boys instead of prioritising his brats has left him looking shy and I was loving it.

I am not sure when men will grow up, but nothing was going up until all the bills were paid. He had to be deprived of physical contact until he sold the nonsense he had bought during Black Friday sales, which were filling up our home and bored him after he had posted them on Instagram.

Yes, I married an idiot who was going to sell all that junk on OLX if he wanted to lick my skin.

He would sell them and I would get my strong, delicious and loud husband back. I missed him, his voice, his leaving up the toilet seat up and his mess, since he became so docile after wasting our money again.

I love my hubby but sex must be denied if he starts acting and spending as if he is 12.

I love him but am not letting a broke man on top of me.

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