{"id":3015,"date":"2020-01-15T15:39:00","date_gmt":"2020-01-15T15:39:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thelocco.com\/magazine\/?p=3015"},"modified":"2021-06-20T10:01:11","modified_gmt":"2021-06-20T10:01:11","slug":"survived-devastating-hostage-ordeal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thelocco.com\/magazine\/survived-devastating-hostage-ordeal\/","title":{"rendered":"How I Survived The Devastating Hostage Ordeal"},"content":{"rendered":"

The rustling at the door suddenly rouses me up from my sleep. I prick my ears listening to the slightest sound. It must be the dead of the night I tell myself since I can’t figure anything in the pitch-black darkness.<\/p>\n

Moments later, the door flies open. Instinctively, I lie still clenching my fists, with my eyes roving all over ready for action. My heart is pounding hard as the pillow I\u2019m lying on gets drenched in sweat.<\/p>\n

Damn, I curse the fact that I have slept naked. You see, it is hard to fight for your life with your groins on the loose. I know the men reading this are vehemently nodding in agreement.<\/p>\n

\u201cBy this point, you might have gotten the hint that this might not turn out to be a hero story despite the corky headline. I regret to inform you that you are absolutely right<\/em>\u201d.<\/p>\n

Related: 21 Signs You Are Still A Boy, Not A Man!<\/a><\/p>\n

Also read: Become a Social god: The Ultimate Alpha Male Guide<\/a><\/p>\n

Faint footsteps are hastily\u00a0coming towards my bed. Suddenly, I feel cold, wet hands all over my neck and face. As I am about to scream, oops I mean pounce back, I notice that the hands are uncannily small and tender.<\/p>\n

Then I hear a distant voice calling, dad, daad, then DAADDY! The munchkin almost blows one of my eardrums screaming my name from the top of his lungs.<\/p>\n

My name is not daddy for your information, but to him, that\u2019s my name, and I couldn\u2019t have it any other way. Apart from him, there is only one other person that has got the license to call me ZZdaddy!! But this is a story for another day.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t sleep<\/em>,\u201d he says. \u201cWhy can\u2019t you sleep<\/em>?\u201d I mumble. \u201cThere is some \u2018Dudu!\u2019 (scary insect or ghost, or whatever) in my bed.<\/em>\u201d He whines.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet us go and chase the Dudu so that you can go back to sleep,<\/em>\u201d I grumpily say as I grab a towel; a sleek move to talk him out of our bed.<\/p>\n

Reluctantly, he follows me to his room. Before I place him in his bed, I perform what would qualify to be a semi-exorcism ritual to cast out the ghosts, insects and whatnot.\u00a0He chuckles as he watches my hilarious performance and then pecks him on the forehead before I put him back to bed.<\/p>\n

I get back to bed, beaming with pride for my magical\/magnificent\/badass babysitting\/sleeping skills<\/em><\/strong>. Woefully, the magical moment is short-lived. I guess it was a case of getting high on my own supply because the door bursts open again just as I am about to dose off.<\/p>\n

Guess who unapologetically matches in? A one-foot-tall juvenile, with the guts to pepper my sleep twice within an hour.<\/p>\n

Related: Are We Babying Our Kids To Death? Teen Suicide<\/a><\/p>\n

This time around, I almost lose my cool. My every nerve screams at me to frog the sleep into his head, but fortunately, I know better. So I grab the boy by the hand, sleepwalk him back to his room, drop him on his bed and then murmur something lullabyish as I take my leave.<\/p>\n

Barely do I get into my bed, do I hear distant whimpers, that are getting louder by the second. I decide to ignore the lad to teach him a lesson, but oh boy! I end up taking the lesson.<\/p>\n

The wails soon turn into eruptive tantrums that clear out every ounce of sleep in my head. I try to explain to him that tomorrow daddy has an early morning because of bla bla bla\u2026<\/p>\n

I know my back is pushed against the wall when I try to use logic on a child who doesn\u2019t understand or give a hoot about what I\u2019m saying.<\/p>\n

I give up! I tell the boy to climb on the bed so that we can sleep together. Now, this is the language he understands.
\nHe jumps right on the bed and makes himself comfortable. Seconds later, I can hear him sucking one of his fingers zealously to lull himself to sleep.<\/p>\n

I think the boy decides that his slippery lukewarm-saliva-filled fingers are too delicious to keep to himself. He unceremoniously tries to shove them into my mouth. I let out an involuntary curse, as I turn to sleep facing the other direction\u2026<\/p>\n

\u2026In the wee hours, I am suddenly woken by a knee jerk at the back of my head. As I turn in protest, he sits his stinky butt right on my face. I fling him off my face, just barely hard enough to send him flying off the bed.<\/p>\n

As I settle back to sleep, I can help wonder who is this terrorist that:<\/p>\n