A date you forget at your peril

Anniversaries in our home are sacrosanct. Forget one, and you’re dead. Figuratively, that is. Dead means no speakies. No dinner. No bedtime stories. Depending on how you show remorse, like in the form of pink flowers, a teddy with a cute message on its tummy, or her favourite perfume, penance can go for a long while.

In mitigation, it has only happened once in our time. That once taught me a painful lesson. Every year, after that, I diarised the date and ordered the goodies timeously.

But to her credit, my Heidi makes a great fuss over me. There are always the after-shave, peanut brittle, biltong, replacement jocks and socks. And a huge card saying what a great bloke I am.

So, sticking together despite umpteen differences is reason enough to celebrate. Take irritating habits. Like forgetting to put down the toilet seat, leaving stinky socks under the bed, gargling out loud while brushing teeth.

Then come politics and religion. The one remains a colonialist, the other accepts the rainbow nation warts and all. The one believes in incinerating the body, the other says it must be donated to the worms. Both stick to their guns.

Speaking of guns, I came across this piece illustrating how men and women can differ. Hypothetically, I hope.

After background checks were done for a Hawks job, there were three finalists: two men and a woman.

For the final test, the agents handed the first man a gun.

“We must know you will follow your instructions, no matter what the circumstances. Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Kill her!”

“You can’t be serious. I could never shoot my wife.”

“Then you’re not the right man. Take your wife and go home.”

The second man was given the same instructions. He came out and tearfully said, “I tried, but I can’t kill my wife.” “Take your wife home.” Finally, the woman’s turn, with the same instruction. Shots were heard, then banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly, and there stood the woman, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“This gun is loaded with blanks. I had to beat him to death with the chair.”