Contraception

I’m the first to admit I don’t have a huge social life at the moment, which is why I was slightly pissed off when I was invited to three functions last night. It was also the last night of my Australian relatives’ visit.

Being the family girl that I am (and because I actually enjoyed their company, unlike other family members), I cut my other plans short and chose to stay home for dinner. Unfortunately, we hadn’t counted on a visit from an old acquaintance who wanted to bring her kids around before the Ozzies jetted off.

Kids… that’s not really the word I should use. A troop of marauding monkeys – possibly. 15, 13, 10 and twins of 8. This woman has been prolific. Admittedly, I’m not much of a ‘child’ person. I tend to pat kids on the head with trepidation and call them Snotface. Even though I don’t want kids of my own, I can understand popping one sprog. Accidents happen. Two – okay, you slipped up twice. Three…you’re not a quick learner are you?

But when you fall pregnant a fourth time, you deserve twins for getting knocked up so often.

So, D brought her kids around “for a quick visit after school” at 2:30. But well after 7pm they were still there and she was showing no signs of leaving. ‘Popping by after school’ means you’ll be gone by 6ish. Possibly even before that to get the kids home before rush hour… surely to god this is a universal understanding? Everyone in our house was doing their best to get her out, falling just short of “will you PLEASE fuck off and take your brats with you?”

The twins, by her own admission, like taking things apart – just to see whether they do indeed come apart. I walked into the TV room to find one trying to dismantle our computer chair. The other was fiddling with my dad’s laptop from work. The 10-year-old was playing our piano – without much finesse. I suggested using individual fingers for each key, rather than a clenched fist.

I had declined three very enticing social functions to stay home with my family, and I was dealing with the genetically-mutated spawn of Satan. I whipped out the first (of many, no doubt) Big Sulks for 2007.

They left after 8:30 and we did end up having a very nice family dinner. But I decided that any children I do have will be meek and mild in nature – or heavily sedated.

So far this morning, I’ve fought with Telkom about getting Boyfriend’s land line disconnected (as requested at the beginning of December 2006). I also had the pleasure of educating a Telkom employee in European geography – yes, it is true, the Netherlands are indeed a country OUTSIDE of South Africa.

I’ve had a conference call/fight with IS Response and Facilities helpdesk – neither of whom want to accept responsibility for the fact that my department doesn’t have a working printer. All three are broken and have been broken since last year. Facilities blames IS, IS blames Facilities… “I don’t care whose fault it is, I need access to a printer. I don’t care where it prints or how it prints. I need access to a printer. Would you like me to cry on the phone? Because I can, and I will.”

I got access to a printer. Anybody else wanna fight? Bring it. Now where the hell did I put my tranqs…