My Mitchells Plain Aunty and I are At it Again
After getting our free Wimpy coffee on Election Day, my Mitchell’s Plain aunty and I called a truce.
That truce only lasted until Mother’s Day when we went with my mother for a visit to her sister in Mitchell’s Plain.
On the way to my aunty’s house – for Sunday afternoon tea and cake – my mother warned me to not start ‘something’ again.
My mom had seen me get a bit upset at lunch with the mere mention of the new premier of the Western Cape, whose name alone is enough to set me off.
Things started off well enough.
My aunty took out my grandmother’s wedding trousseaux china cups and saucers and as always had the most delicious cream cakes and my favourite coconut tart.
She said she especially got the tart because she knew I was coming.
Things took a turn for the worse when my cousin - always in the mood for some controversy – made mention of Helen Zille’s all male cabinet.
I nearly choked on my coconut tart!
A look of alarm crossed my mother’s face.
“Well” I said, “I knew that woman was not only racist but also sexist.”
“She thinks she’s the only person who knows everything about everyting.”
My Mitchell’s Plain aunty mumbled under her breath: “Seems to me, Helen Zille isn’t the only one who thinks she knows everything about everything!”
I said to her: “It’s because of Helen Zille and her kind that you are sitting in Mitchell’s Plain and not in Claremont!”
“There’s nothing wrong with living in Mitchell”s Plain,” my aunty continued.
“Good people live here too, not just tik addicts and gangsters.”
Now I must mention that we dont’ shout at each other in my family – we argue in a very polite tones.
It would be offensive to use a raised tone with older people.
“Give Helen a chance,” my aunty said.
“Like hell,” I mumbled behind my hand, to my sister.
My aunty wasn’t done yet, “As long as she gives everyone houses it doesn’t matter who she has in her cabinet.”
Right then my mother stood up and said we have to go – we’ve still got other rounds to make.
I had my comebacks ready, but she wouldn’t let me get another word in edge wise.
She told me to go kiss my aunty and get in the car. As if i’m a child, and not long past my 30th birthday!
I did what I was told, but defiant as ever, added (to my mom) that I would blog about the events of the day.
My mom said it was okay, since my aunty doesn’t trust the internet anyway.
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