Rindicella
Rindicella was a good girl.
She didn't kiss on the first date
She was always home by curfew
She ate healthy foods
She studied hard for matric
She listened to her mum on all conceivable
occasions
When she cooked a lemon cake she always
followed the recipe
She would save her smarties for later,
thereby proving to all that she could delay gratification
She deserved a nice Jewish boy who would
tie his laces dutifully, tithe his ten percent, devote himself to her upkeep,
and massage his mother in law's feet instantly on request
Everyone agreed she would bring home
something special one day.
Raski was a juvenile delinquent of the most
atrocious habits
He lived in the castle on the hill and
never ever listened to his mother
He would lie baking in the sun most
mornings and drink fanta grape even when his mother said get that child out the
sun he's headed for skin cancer
He would cut his laces short because he was
so uncoordinated that he would trip over them, then not bother to even tie them
and blow smoke rings at his father when he insisted upon some levels of decency
in his home
He would borrow his aged mother's gold card
to buy Cadburys whispers and petrol to visit the book exchange and never ever
brush his teeth.
All in all a rotter to the core.
Jehovah was and still is the God of the
eleventh hour deliverance and had been keeping a beady eye on these two
children since they were babies
He also had a divine sense of humor, which
as all of the compassionate mothers know, is the key to good matchmaking. He
was hanging around the pearly gates with st Peter and cracking jokes about who
was in and who was out this year when a red Volksie beetle shot into the drive
thru
Without paying. St Peter's reaction was to
shout WTF which in heavenly language means "want the falafel?"
Yes dear children, Rindicella had snuck in
to heaven and out again without paying for her falafel.
Raski at the same time was deep into the
latest Booker prize and as usual reading while crossing the road. Let me not
tell you of Rindicellas steering skills but One thing and another Rindicella
and Raski ended up eating falafel at a late nite teetotallers pub on the verge
of known civilization. They found they both liked it crispy but not too
overdone
The beginning of a long term long range
long budget movie had kicked into gear. To cut a long story short Raski trimmed
his toenails and his vocabulary and reading habits and everybody pulled in, or
did they pull out? Whatever, in and out, up and down and around about and in
the twinkling of an eye Raski and Rindicella had a brood of the most
imaginative rascals.
They named their brood the Rindicella and
Raski Rastafarian Rubbishes. This was to satisfy a codicil in uncle Bertys will
that Raski be always referred to as that Ruddy Rubbish, but he turned it into a
joke and insisted that he always take out the garbage on Monday mornings.
God is good.
And they all lived happily ever after.
Next instalment once the hangover has
lifted.
PS Jules and Caits and Grandads gifts are hidden beside the chimney
Merry Christmas
Love
Ross, Dad
