Mickey, the food thief.

“Love, what are we going to do?  The fire destroyed all the food we had.”

Minnie was battling to hold down the tears sparkling in her eyes.  A fragile, concerned mother trying her best to console her youngest, Mickey Jr, who’s been up all night with colic, implying constant crying, which is something you don’t wish on your worst enemy.

“Minnie, I’ve told you I’ll make a plan.  I have found a house, there is plenty of food, standing in a bowl on the floor.  It’s easy pickings.  I think it belongs to their version of Pluto.  I’m going back there again tonight.”

I steal food.

I steal food.

“Are you sure it’s safe?  I won’t make it if something happens to you.  Besides I’m definitely not going to raise all three of your kids on my own.”

“It’s safe, stop worrying.  The inhabitants of the house are oblivious to my nightly scavenging.  Just trust me.”  He was trying his best to hide the anxiety in his voice. Continue reading

The burglar alarm story

I love living in South Africa.  Consider me to be one of the shiny, happy people REM sings about.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not stupid or oblivious to the problems we face daily.  You know those unique things, like corruption, crime, poverty and prejudice.  I’m saying unique ’cause when you read the news it seems we’re the only country that deals with that kind of icky stuff.

As part of suburban life, one might find certain common things amongst households of our beautiful country.  Things like Aromat and Pap, a Braai and a Pool, a Rugby ball and Jersey and a SUV and a Caravan.  And they’re all tucked away, nicely behind 6″ walls and a Burglar alarm. Continue reading