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N the lottery we call childrearing, we can agree that none of us know what we’re doing. There are only two things I’m certain about. One: it’s a bad idea to leave Domestos on the lowest shelf in the house. Two: play-sparring with a four-year-old without crotch protection ends in tears — for you.

Ntobeko, my first-born, is in his final year of varsity this year, assuming that his brand of #FeesMustFall-ing doesn’t involve burning down the EG Malherbe library. When he was in Grade 10 “we” had to decide what subjects he would take in Grade 11. My advice was “Choose the subjects you’re really strong in”, a near impossibility seeing as he kinda got As for everything.

It was rubbish advice, of course. I did, however, redeem myself later, when it was time to choose which