Next thing you look? One leg-----or both! Are curled strategically on the couch, and I say strategically because everybody has to be comfortable, right? Even if there are six of them on a two-seater sofa and you feet are partially under your cousins ass.........it took yearrrrrs of practice! Passed down from generation to generation! Booty-leg-curl boot camp venue was at my gran's house! Specific days too! Mothers Day, Christmas Day, Ma's Birthday...
So, anyway, I'm sitting there and I had an appointment that was postponed so instead I got to join my mum, dad, aunt and family friend, along with a church congregation of------of really ollllllld folk. Some were old like sit-when-you're-meant-to-stand old. My mum and them are old, but they're young-old. You know? At 42? When you're the youngest there? Either way, you get what I'm saying.
First! Wait? First!!!! Yesterday morning, I go outside to help my parents hang their washing. So I pick up this t-shirt and I'm about to hang it and my dad points to the left side of the washing line, "Nooooh, no!!! That's the t-shirt section!"
Me? "Wait? So? Y'all have sections on the washing line?"
Proudly, he said, "Yes! All the t-shirts go that side! We don't-we don't just hang any old how." I'm trying to insist that my dad go sit and let me hang with my mum, he was meant to be going to the store across the road. But he won't because well? The man is a workaholic! Either that or he refused point blank to come back to find that his last born had hung their washing "any old how!"
So then, I'm hanging the t-shirts in the----------"section!" It's actually the sweetest thing though, because they are so insync with their operating system. Operation Hang Washing. For me? Hey, the sun?! God made it so that when it shines, it doesn't shine on one very particular 5cm wide spot. Ya Rambler was born in the 70's...chill, that smiling sun will dry everything no matter where they're hung! But, eh, I'm just a snot-nosed washing hanger, what do I know? I had to abide by the washing line rules. I didn't wanna have him tell me, "Step away-----from the line!" That woulda been embarrassing and I had a washing line full of clothing at home too. I actually began feeling bad for my own washing. Almost as if I would be the root of their emotional issues! Like imagining the t-shirts talking to the shorts next to it, "I feel so misplaced right now...she just has no clue of how this makes me feel!"
My dad is hanging the table cloths in their "section" which is on the right hand side of the line. Then? The pants? Go on the third line. All that's left now are socks and my dad's under shorts! My mum then says, "He hangs those! I don't like hanging those small things!" Awwwwwww, love at it's best! I'm like, "Ohhhh-okay!" He is over there grinning while my mum is giggling! I'm loving this experience! I'm seriously wanting this experience! I would have failed at life if I don't live my old years out in this very way!
Now! Back to today. Wednesday, is their church day. I always knew that they had this thinnnnnnnng, this routine, right?!? I just didn't know how organised it was. Well, I found out today? We walk into church and the family friend grabs five hymn book. I follow suit and grab 5 prayer books. Doing well so far! That is until I make the mistake of picking up a hymn book for myself and she says, "I have five. Put that one down."
I held onto it, rebel that I am.
But?!? When she said it the second time? It dawned on me then that rebelling against the hymn book instruction wasn't the smartest of moves. I was afraid that if she had to say it another time, that she'd actually forcefully remove it from me. Second times, she switched it up! That was the tell-tale sign for me! When you put the first sentence last and the last sentence first? Third time, there's nothing but action left! "Put that one back down, I have five!"
Lesson: Hymn books should not be wasted! Or-----or something.
Me: O_o! O-okay...(putting it down)
So I follow them to the seats. There are lots of empty seats because everybody hasn't yet arrived. They walk straight to their "section!" What is it about old people and their sections?????? Here? I'm thinking, okay, this has got to be a side effect of Apartheid! It's all about sections and sections and it's not just with my parents! They're all doing it! Where else would they have picked up this nasty habit?
Me? I was born into Apartheid. Whatever section my parents took me to was the section that I belonged in, according to the "rules!" That's probably why I hang my washing, any old how.
The family friend lays out the books across five seats and I'm thinking, well cool, this is where we sit. As the holder of the prayer books. Five of them!!! I lay out the five prayer books on top of each hymn book and then said a secret prayer that I was doing the right thing. I did the right thing! Then?!?! I pick a set up and turn to sit and my mum says, "Nooh, we don't sit in this row! We sit here..." Pointing to the row behind the book row!
I'm starting to feel a liTTle more than a weeeeeee bit lost. Like a t-shirt next to a pair of shorts! We sit. I was ordered to sit next to my dad and mum. Church then finishes and I notice that my dad left his own prayer book, with it's cover on the seat in front of him. Instinctively, I reach for it mumbling that he had left it and my aunt tells me, "Don't touch his book! Ooooo! You don't touch his book. Leave it there. He will come back for it, but you don't touch his book!"
O_o. What?!? In the name of all that is familiar?!?! Is going on here? I don't know these people! I clearly can't be me while they're being them! But I don't know the them they're being? This them?!? Who are theeeeeese people?!?! So I stand still. And wait. Which was the right thing to do again. I was ready to walk out the front door. The door that we walked into church through.
Thankfully, because now? We're going to the store next to church so we're walking out of the top door. I left the book. Walked pass the book. Looking at the book periodically until it was out of my sight. And by golly?!? My dad was somewhere on the top, walked pass us, down the stairs to their "section" and got his book. There was no, "Why did y'all leave my book?" Everything is understood between these five! Impressive------and confusing!
Sharde then tells me that Zelda isn't home, but is on her way back. I tell my aunt. My aunt tells me not to worry because she woulda layed the table, anyway. See? This is Wednesday! Church. They go to the store next to church to buy fresh, unsliced bread, go to Zelda after church, slice the bread into thick slices, put butter and jam or whatever on the bread and have tea! Zelda, is my generation! But she is welllllllll versed by now, on the Wednesday routine! We walked into the kitchen annnnnnnnnd? Zelda had returned! The table was set! It was time for the after-party!
When we finally got back to my mum? My brain fell asleep and took my body with it! It was a beautifully confusing, enlightening, two days spent with them!
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