BREAKFAST By Kevin Koech

                           
I woke up late today. (Hey, you. Shame on me. Saves your having to say it.) Breakfast was an occasional cup of green tea, but this time with an omelette. Let's talk about my omelette. Don't freak out. Please. It's not every time a guy talks, or even better, writes about such shit.
My elder sister baked it, of course, after I had bought all the ingredients and forgotten cilantro (Cilantro is Dania, Dummy). I couldn't be talking the omelette if I didn't go back to the grocer's. Just that the grocer was rude. Cilantro? At this time of the day? You smoke cilantro? I can't tell whichever of the questions he was pondering over more. For all I know, he let me carry the few withering leaves with my bare hands, thanks to my miserable Dime's worth Contribution. I'm that broke, by the way. No plastic bag for that. Environmentalist, huh? Economist ? Match to Hell. I can't believe I'm fussing such a storm in a tiny tea-cup. Shame on me again.
Alright, so, the omelette. It was awesome. One of the best I'd ever eaten. (Hats off, Sharon). She's brilliant in kitchen. And in many other places. You should meet her. I forgot they were only two. I was half way into the second when she joins me at the table. She was not surprised. This happens often. I mean, the joining me at the table.
So we take breakfast, talking about my WhatsApp status, in between the messing up with cutlery use. Cutlery amateurs we are. (I'm improving, by the way, won't be a mess next time on the table.)
"Teach them that expressing oneself is a strength..." Expressing oneself. It's one necessity to humans next to oxygen. It's how we get to communicate, air out what we feel, such. In there comes Emotional Intelligence - knowledge of knowing how to behave, act, carry on in situations.Feeling irritated? Offended? Liking someone? Need some space?      (Well, I left you some space if you noticed.) Communication (Verbal, etc) is the beauty of being human.
And, by the way, While expressing oneself, you're never too much when you know you're making some sense.
That was breakfast. And, more important, a conversation. Did I say I have much respect for conversations? Well, I do. Sarcasm-encrypted ones, especially. We could talk about anything (How I went shopping for parties, etc.)
But poor conversations, they sound like a eulogy to me. On a bad day, I'll listen (maybe type) and conclude my inferences about the jackass on the other side, while on the good day, I'll go straight to sleep, or trade blueticks for the bollocks.
Let's learn to express ourselves, shall we?
Thumbs up, Sharon, for the Omelette. And the conversations.