Enjoy the little thorns accompanying Christmas

I often think I am equipped with values and principles which have no place in our modern world. And now I have realised that I also live life too slowly for the modern world. Heck, I don’t think it should be April yet!

Monday, on Heritage Day, a cocky little neighbour shouted at our gate.

Our two pet dogs love to escape from our yard once a fortnight. They run around the compex, sniff a few canine butts, play with children and come back smiling. They’re harmless – I have caught trout bigger than any of the two miniature dogs.

But as far as Michael, the neighbour, is concerned, they represent an overload of joie de vivre and cannot be tolerated.

As I approached the gate, it slowly dawned on Michael that this grumpy silverback isn’t a neighbour to shout at. But there are bigger dangers in my home than me. The silverback’s wife, the lovely Snapdragon, sprinted to where the manlet was standing much quieter now and chased him home with a delightful selection of the spiciest words from her considerable vocabulary.

It was music to my ears.

On Wednesday, the three-year-old Egg and I completed our Christmas shopping.

At the lingerie department of a chain store, a lady asked us about the size of the undergarments we wished to purchase. Egg saw this as a woman’s issue and took matters into her little grubby paws.

“My mom has tiny boobies,” she told the assistant. “But she has a big bum.”

“Nonsense,” I interrupted, as I still believe in chivalry. I have married Snapdragon for all the right reasons, which includes a heartwarming derrière.

And then I realised an important fact – the festive season is unfolding as it should. On Heritage Day, we have observed the beautiful South African tradition of arguments and threats of violence aimed at slightly intoxicated neighbours. And we are kicking Christmas off with insults by those close to ourselves – a vital part of our festive culture.

That is exactly my Christmas wish to you, dear reader. Enjoy the little thorns which is so much part of the way we celebrate the festive season. Gracefully ignore the thoughtless remarks by family because, eventually, love is the thing that matters.

And please… don’t be Michael.

Dirk Lotriet. Picture: Alaister Russell

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