“What is that you holding?” my youngest boet asks me, as he stands at my bottom door while he sips my caramel vodka. Me, I look at him and think nope Girl, you can’t snarl, he’s just got here, “It’s called a chamois, have you never used it to dry the vehicle off?” “Oh haha, no I just tell my Dad to take my car to the valet”
“You realise he is my Dad too?” I say through clenched teeth. “Ja, but there is such an age gap between us all, I feel like an only child” as he helps himself to more of my wine from my fridge.
This was an hour into my youngest boets visit. Breathe– KimmeTing – Breathe! Now I had specifically no weed in my house, cause crazy Polish Stepmother would have me drawn and quartered if she knew I had given, her only pride and joy, the evil drug that the rest of us toke with casualness and reverence. I decide after his last comment, Not gonna happen and I make a plan. (I now have pictures of darling angel rocking the gunge! Bwaa haa haa)
My youngest boet, Sharl, is a first year Bio Chem student, bright kid with full running list of distinctions. Got a huge bursary too, quite unusual for a first year, so we all pretty proud of the bugger. But OMGosh, you know I love him cause he’s my boet and all, but I don’t always like him. He arrived at my house with 2 plastic bags of junk food, aaai teenagers, which he polished by the following morning. I don’t have fizzy cooldrinks or crisps or choccies etc at my spot.
We hit the party mile and I call for backup. “Jon, doooodle, kom bring jou missus. Ek sit hiersô by Hooters met Sharl” Oldest Boet, Jon arrives and stops me from killing the insufferable, self centred, little cunt and instead proceeds to not only get me completely shmangled, cause Imma light weight nowdays, but starts to kak me out too. Aaaaai my fok! A sample of the various things I got kakked out for, while the youngest and oldest propped each other up while drinking KWV and coke (sies! Sacrilege) Mamieta and myself went and boogied it down on the dance floor and then it started.
“Smile back at him, he smiled at you” Jon nudges me, none to subtlely. “I did, Dooode! Shudup now” Jon continues “No you see this is why you aren’t involved, cause you make yourself unavailable. You act like some kinda nun!” “Shudup Dooode, you drunk. Don’t go there” I warn him. “You believe in the ideal love, and it doesn’t exists. Look, you still hung up on Gordon and he’s dead, what it must be 15yrs now?” “10 years you Mofo and shut the fuck up now. Don’t even say his name” “ I will say his name, he was my friend too. See how hung up you are about him, being so rude to me about it. It’s the same as Him that shall not be named, you have to get over men quicker than you do. You waste time”
Jon and I have had i-shoes for a while, especially cause my Father dearest keeps asking him about my relationship status. “You’ve said to much,” I choon him, “but your missus is here, go to her and ask her to drive you home. This is the end of the conversation” “No it isn’t, you always hide away from this, Get. Over. The. Guys. You. Think. You. Love.” He spells it out like I am 15 yrs old again.
Sharl, who has never seen Jon and I argue in his life, starts laughing and shouts “Fight, Fight, Fight” At that stage I could’ve punched them both lights out, but they both bigger than me and I do love them, even if they are mean to me. Jon made up for it with abit of Rooibaardt this weekend, but youngest boet, well he is oblivious to having hurt my feelings. Aaaai teenagers! Next time, his friends and him can find somewhere else to squat, or go stay by Jon.