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By Danie Toerien

Journalist


Fear is just a phone call away…

There is one thing that scares the bejesus out of me: the question asked by the wife. 'What time will you be home.'


What’s my biggest fear, a friend asked. Well, that got me thinking. Fear is not something that real men subscribe to.

Yes, I do get a tingling sensation in my bones when I hit 200km/h on a superbike and I did once find my adrenaline level slightly increased when I drove smack-bang into a cash-in-transit heist. But that’s more fun than fear.

The devil? Puh-lease! He’ll make one helluva braai buddy. He does it the man’s way. But there is one thing that scares the bejesus out of me: the question asked by the wife. “What time will you be home.”

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Note the lack of a question mark, because that is no question. It means only one thing: I will get my sorry self home right now. Immediately. Without asking questions.

Even if I have to fake a heart attack. It also means I will either have a lot of explaining to do, or alternatively to perform some task which I promised to do, but have not got around to, like painting a room, picking up the dog poop, or replacing a leaking gutter.

Or we might be going to a school event with a grandchild, or she’s invited people over for dinner, and I have forgotten.

I also know not to ask why. Not because it’s impolite to answer a question with a question, but because I have heard it’s very difficult picking up one’s teeth with broken fingers.

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“Are we going to visit my parents.” That one has me rattling like a mouse in a snake cage. Translated, it means we are going, I will be on my best behaviour, compliment her mother’s everything, even the instant coffee, allow the Pekingese to do unmentionable things to my leg, not talk about the Stormers, unless of course they win, not swear, be attentive, display affection towards the wife but not in a way that can be construed as groping, laugh at the same jokes I’ve been listening to for decades, stay awake for the duration of the visit, and most importantly, not get drunk, not even as a last resort.

Of course, the only way to overcome one’s fears is to face them. Or, as I have discovered, not to always answer the phone.

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