On my hike down memory lane, I stumbled across this gem……….
A Slippin’ and A Sliddin’
My brother in law, Jordy, was a tall, handsome Game Warden. He was also very energetic. No matter where he was going, he would run. To work, back from work, to his car and from his car. If he was on foot anywhere and everywhere, it would be at full speed.
Stationed at Robins Camp in the Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe or Wankie Game Reserve, as it was known in the Rhodesian era, he and his young bride were housed in the Tower which had been initially built as an observatory but was now a comfortable home to Jordy and his young bride. A home which she kept in pristine perfection.
In this home, there was not a speck of dust, the windows were spotless, and the floors were shiny, gleaming. They were smooth cement floors that gleamed and glistened in the sunlight.
They were kept this way by the application of Cobra floor polish, which is a coloured wax and first spread on the floor, allowed to dry, then rubbed vigorously to achieve that fantastic sheen.
The day came, however, when two forces collided. Speed and propulsion brought my athletic brother-in-law to an interesting, but embarrassing low.
Running home, as usual, he flung open the front door and came barrelling in. We watched as he lost his footing, slipped and shot across the slick surface like a bullet from a gun, ending up in a huddled heap under the staircase.
My sister and I, with a greater sense of humour, than that of compassion, burst out in howls of laughter. This, of course, infuriated Jordy. He uncurled himself, stood up, and dusting himself off announced we were, “Stupid. Silly. Simpering. School girlish…
Of course, the excessive use of ‘S’, s sent us into more whoops of merriment.
Don’t remember the eventual outcome… maybe he went out and shot every poacher he came across or cuddled an elephant or two.
I know we somehow survived his wrath, and I lived to tell this tale.