Papa wanted to beat head out of me the day I polluted in his presence. It wasn’t intentional though. It was like the air was waiting for me to be with Papa before it came out.

I was with Papa around 3:05pm when I came back from school. Papa was desperately searching for something inside his Synod bag. I sat beside him, looking around, viewing our compound, how breeze manage to carry dry leaves and waterproof up and down, how birds were flying and making noise, how hen was moving about with her children making a cho cho cho noise and how cock craw with his small long tiny mouth. Then I heard a noise “puuuuu”. I looked at Papa and felt sorry. “Are you mad?” Papa asked.

The enraged timber in papa’s voice made my finger cold at the tips. I thought he will pull at my ear. I thought he will yank and yawn at the same time as he spoke. That he would slap me that his palm would make that sound, like a heavy book falling from a library shelf at school. He turned and continued what he was doing. I was tong-tied. I imagined what I did. I asked myself when last I ate beans. I probably forgot I took coconut and bread with yaughrt last night. In not less than fifteen minutes, I focused my attention on a hen that was pursuing a butterfly, imagining what the hen will do with the butterfly if she caught it. I saw another cock that was chasing a hen. I let my eyes to stroll, I wanted to know what will definitely happen when he catches the hen. I heard another sound “kwuo” I felt hotness in my buttocks, it was then I realized I was the one that polluted again. The smell circled us.
“Papa sorry it was a mistake” I said.
He stood up and slapped me, his hand made that noise, like a heavy book falling from a library shelf in school. I bent down, with my two hands on my cheeks. I closed my eyes in the way people do when they want to remember something unpleasant.

“Papa sorry” I repeated.

He unlocked this belt this time, not a rope. It was a heavy belt made of black layer of black leather with a sedate leather covered buckle. It landed on my back. I stood up. “Papa sorry” I shouted. It landed on my back the second time, I rushed outside. I wanted to break myself into two as I touched my back with my right hand across my head and my left hands before my buttocks.
“Lack of home training” He finally said. His jaw was moving as if he was gritting his teeth. I cried. I stood outside watching him as he was still busy searching something inside his Synod bag. Though I was looking at him. I wasn’t actually seeing him. I was still wondering what caused my behavior. It was then I remembered I ate bread with coconut which I flushed down with a hundred and fifty naira yaughrt.
http://www.storyprofile.com/index.php/2015/07/01/miserable-life-episode-4/

SOURCE: www.storyprofile.com

As much as someone carelessly "polluting the air" disgust me, this narration is very funny.
I laughed throughout