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Dear
Santa
All
your letters this year will be starting with, Santa, it’s been a tough year but
it has been a STUPENDOUSLY rough year in my family. I’m easily the worst off, I
swear. We’re talking mothers in law.
It all started
to crumble around me when I had just bought my ticket for our girls’ trip to
Thailand – a trip three years in the planning. Moving on to some online
shopping, I had just clicked a new bikini into my cart when Shazzy rang with
the news that we were kind of expecting but really hoping wouldn’t come.
Lockdown. No flights, not to Thailand, not to anywhere. In the blink of an eye,
kids were off school and there was an ambitious email assuming we’d home school
our two kids into Einsteins without breaking a sweat. Husband was suddenly in
my space and under my feet, working from home and spending a worrying amount of
time chatting to the new secretary. (A bit of emotional distancing wouldn’t go
amiss there.) With my leave cancelled, I too carried on working from home,
zooming into my team’s homes and seeing all sorts of things that I wish I
hadn’t. Just as we found our family lockdown groove, we were suddenly faced
with Doris, my mother in law, and her housing problem. Her landlord lost his
job, left his wife and he needed a place to live, pronto. She was going to be
homeless in George. |
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My husband casually announced a few days later that he had a
special permit and was setting off to fetch Doris and bring her to live with us
in Cape Town. There’s not enough wine in the world to make that news better,
even with normal bottle store hours. Doris and I have always had a stormy
relationship. Truth is, husband can be a real Mommy’s boy but heaven help
anyone who remarks on this. I learnt the hard way.
So, as husband dashed off and dodged home school for three days, I
soldiered on. As if the kids’ actual classes weren’t bad enough, the school
then sent another ambitious notice saying that we should be ensuring a good
diet and adequate exercise at home. I mean, really? Do I look like I would know
what a 100m sprint involves anywhere other than the summer sales? Do I look
like I have ever seen the inside of a gym? Are maple syrup and bacon flapjacks
not the breakfast of champions?
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So the kids’ deluded swimming coach sends me a variety of swimming
workouts. Well, you probably heard my kids bleating in the North Pole when told
to get into the ice cold pool water and get the blood pumping. Mutiny at the
poolside and the kids insist they will now catch pneumonia AND Corona, and I am
a terrible person. I am kind of on their side. We will come up with a
watertight excuse if the school asks why we have packed on 25 kg in lockdown.
Doris arrived all kitted
out and looking quite pleased with herself. I shamelessly dropped hints that
she shouldn’t get too comfy because, at the end of lockdown, we’re finding her
a new place back in George and it’s cheerio. Then, still unpacking the car,
suddenly a Labrador appears and husband walks in carrying a cardboard box that
was squeaking. I gave him the look. The “Have you got something you would
like to tell me look?” Well Santa, Doris only brought her Labrador and its
eight puppies born five weeks ago.
I swear my home is feeling like a pet and geriatric refugee camp
come mental asylum. Within a day, the puppies escaped their pen and found the
pool. Thankfully the kids were outside and managed to leap in and scoop out the
blonde bundles after they plopped off the edge into the deep end. Doris, having
helped herself to my last few tots of precious gin, mistakenly thought the kids
had taken the pups swimming and a screaming match broke out. I managed to break
it up, reminding Doris that she was a guest and Corona was no excuse to leave
her manners in George. She flounced off in a drunken huff, tripped and fell
into the flower bed and broke all my hydrangeas. If relations were frosty
before, now it’s the age ice. I’ve not seen Doris today but husband is in
a foul mood so I am guessing he got the gears from momsy about having a crabby
wife who only gets dressed properly from the waist up.
Santa, the puppies are sure to drown
unless we secure the pool and I could never live with the guilt. Anything you
can do for us? Are you even doing house calls this year or just farms 100km
apart? Have you had letters asking for puppies? Help yourself when you get
here. I will tell Doris it’s a Christmas miracle. Actually, can you take her
too? Just push her out the sleigh as you go back over George. Plop.
Love Kathy, the good one. xoxo
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Dear Kathy
I am three elves down
this year and the only PPE that we could find in red comes from China and makes
me sweat and itch in places you should not sweat and itch but yes, Christmas is
still on. It may be a Corona Christmas where families eat together on Zoom and
all the arguments can be resolved with the ‘Leave Meeting’ button, but yes,
there will be Christmas. |
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Making the pool
safe for dogs is easy. A PowerPlastics
Solid Safety Cover will keep those pups alive, and Doris too if she
gets her hands on any more gin and ventures outside. (I’m just sorry I can’t
cover your hydrangeas.) And if you are really worried about weight gain, (I
didn’t want to say anything but since you brought it up) you and the kids would
benefit from a Trevi
Jetstream in the pool. It is a seriously strong jet that lets you
swim against a current. You’ll get your pre-Thailand body back and the school
may consider your kids for the 2021 Waterpolo team. Heating the pool is easy
too. A Sol+Guard GeoBubble cover will whack a good 10 degrees C into the water.
So, no excuses to dodge the swimming homework. All very simple when you choose PowerPlastics
Pool Covers.
I’ll take one
pup for the wife, thank you. Hoping you have
at least a small glass of sherry to leave out on Christmas Eve. I have no
problem fighting Doris if she sets her beady eyes on it. It’s been a
STUPENDOUSLY rough year.
Ho ho
co-vid ho
Love Santa, the red
one
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