A Village Missing its Idiot

My new friend told me that her husband didn’t like her talking to me. 

She would end her chats with me very abruptly and hurry away each time she heard him in the distance. 

I asked her what exactly the issue was. She said “he thinks you will give me ideas.”
 

The dude was right, in a way. I guess I did give her ideas but they were all about food. That’s all we ever talked about: food. She and I both loved cooking. 

I wondered what the thesis for his “ideas” paranoia was but didn’t dwell on that too long. I knew it was futile to try and understand his mental jumble sale. 

I bumped into him at a supermarket one morning. He pretended to be looking at something else. I was looking homeless, so I went along with the game.

When it happened a second time, I had to laugh. The dude seriously wasn’t messing around. I watched him stare at some Listerine for 7 minutes straight. 

They moved to another city soon afterwards.

She gave me no forwarding details because Mr Listerine told her that they didn’t need to keep contact with any “old friends”. 

I was relieved when they left. (Because God knows that a village somewhere was missing their idiot) 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015.

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and http://www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Not Part of The Deal!

I take my children to the park to WATCH them play. So when I see another mother jumping, sliding, tumbling and screaming “weeeee” on the roundabout, I get annoyed.

Not because she’s got more energy than me. Not even because she’s getting the cardio workout I need much more than her. No, I get irritated because it gives my kids ideas. Stupid ideas.

So, there I am acting cool in my new trainers (that have never seen a treadmill), with my  Cosmo lying next to my smoothie when my daughter decides that they need an extra person to make the see-saw go down. That was NOT part of the park deal. 

I would never had been a play contender in the first place but the happy mother-from-Disney had planted that stupid seed. 
So, I reluctantly put my shades down, while Miss Disney flashed me a thumbs up. Just as I sat my bum down, and made everyone happy with the sheer force of gravity, I heard a man’s voice say “You stupid girl!” 

I thought he was referring to me and he would have been right, in a way. He continued, “Look at you! Crying like a bloody girl. THIS is why I don’t take you anywhere! You idiot!” 

My blood began to boil as I saw the tears streaming down the face of a 10 year old boy. 

I looked straight into the eyes of the woman on the see saw with me and said “I think I am going to kill that piece of crap of a man.”

She responded “You will have to beat me to it.”
Knowing that she had already kicked my ass in the Hot/Fun/Fit departments, I gladly stepped aside and let her proceed to gold. She walked straight up to the man.  My heroine! 

Without waiting to see the rest of the movie, I hurried to abruptly whisk my kids off to the car. As I drove off, I noticed the weirdest thing in my rear view mirror : Miss Disney and Mr Douche Bag getting into the same car!

I died.
  
© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015.

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and http://www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

“Not Your Business”

I was sure that the woman being insulted was in a bad space.
She didn’t flinch. She just continued to staple notes together while her CEO told the people standing in a circle having coffee that she was an “incapable, erratic nutcase” that needed to be “babied“.
The spitting cow had no children. So, I giggled at the irony of her “baby” gesture. I giggled a little more once she began her presentation about Building Resilient Teams. 
During the break, I approached the fire mouth. I simply said “I find it difficult to accept that sort of talk in my presence.”
We left it there.
Before the next workshop, the woman who had been insulted contacted me. She said “You made my situation worse. You need to stay out. This has nothing to do with you.” 
She was right. 
  
© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and http://www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

“Shock & Anxiety”

The hailstorm was horrible and my daughter was crying.

 

We had just dropped our new cleaning lady off 15 minutes earlier. I wondered if she was still standing in that terribly long line at the taxi spot. I would have loved to go back and collect her, but could not risk driving in the storm. So, I called her. There was no response.

 

When she returned to work the next morning, I asked her about the storm. She smiled and said that it was “not so bad.”

 

I was relieved.

 

As I was driving out, I saw a woman approach my door. She was carrying a medical kit. I was intrigued. So, I waited and watched. She went inside my house and did not come out.

 

I recognized her right away. She was that nosey neighbour who walked around the hood with a notebook, marking down things that had nothing to do with her (like cars parked in the wrong spots, or bins put out on the wrong day).

 

I waited another 30 seconds, expecting her to emerge, after realising she was at the wrong house. When she didn’t, I had to go and take a look. The domestic worker was lying on the couch, covered by a blanket. The neighbour lady was making some tea for her. I was frozen. I just watched, as though transfixed in a movie scene.

 

The neighbour was there to “treat” her for “shock and anxiety”. I said “Oh really? Why?” to which the lady replied “Yes, that storm really shook her up, poor thing.”

 

I could not stand to watch the movie any longer. I just shook my head.

I had no idea that the neighbour knew the cleaner.

I had no idea why the cleaner had put an SOS through to her and when.

I had no idea that the cleaner would let a stranger (to me) into our home and allow her to go into my kitchen to use my cups to throw a tea party in my absence.

 

I needed treatment for “shock and anxiety”.

 

So, I got into my car and drove to my sister for some “tea”.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015.

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and http://www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content