My Mother bought a steamer, a three piece combination steamer and wok. Not just any three piece combination steamer and wok, but one endorsed/marketed by a celebrity chef so you know it was mad expensive.

And who is the wok for?? Apparently it's for me....... for when I get married.

Back in the day I had heard the urban legend whispered along the hall ways that there is this mystical chest where Igbo mothers pack household items that is brought out at the end of the daughter's traditional wedding to be used to send her off to her husband's house etc. My Mum had once made a remark to the point that she had already started amassing such items and I had laughed it off.

I'm not laughing anymore.

As I admired the impressive silverware, I pointed out that I was not marrying anytime soon unless people knew something that I did not, it didn't even faze the woman!

I get the very scary feeling that my Mum is using these few days of my unemployment as a kind of marriage boot camp. I was interrogated earlier last week for information regarding exactly how well I could cook certain dishes (the army has nothing on my Mother) and any dish I didn't answer a hundred percent answer to , ended in crash course lessons. Even later this night I have Egusi Soup practicals to look forward to.

I resent all of this on a higher level becasue I know it is a result of being female!! I don't mind the cooking lessons, but it makes you wonder, do men get this aggro??? Somewhere in the world right now, is there a 26 year old man being pulled aside by his father and being asked how many skills he has to raise a family???? Are they buying him a steamer too?? Or a tool box, or lawn bloody mower to cut his future son's mini football pitch!!!!!!!!

I'm going now to go and cook the meat for the soup and cut spinach. I WILL LAUGH AT THIS ONE DAY :)