She was just opening her mouth to reply when I got the opportunity to understand what a 'voice like ice' is. One such informed me from behind that "My mother is not helpless".
I turned to see where this was coming from and found myself eye to eye with the daughter of her mother. Looked to be middle to late twenties and dressed in the standard Kenyan uniform of tight fitting pre-faded jeans that look painted on and a halter top that was having trouble containing its considerable contents.
There are figures that are designed for such dressing and trust me my friends, hers was such. At this point in time the double barreled stance of both hands and hips, which is never a sign for good things to come for us gents, was directed at me.
She testified again that her parent was not helpless. I informed her that I did not think she was for one second, but just wanted to give her a hand. The peacekeeping smile I normally employ to deliver me from sticky situations was deployed and it failed.
My help, I was curtly informed, was neither wanted nor needed. Her mother was as equally as capable as I and was not, she repeated, helpless.
When faced with such er ... nonsense most people tend to get annoyed but this is where I am not like most people. Mother looked on in amusement and daughter looked in shocked amazement as I did something that in hindsight I should have contained. I burst into laughter.
At this point in time, God's excellent sense of humour manifested itself and with a ripping sound the bag burst and the road was littered with assorted groceries.
Perhaps I was still smiling when I asked her if it was okay to help retrieve the groceries from the road. I suspect i've made an enemy for life but I'm not losing any sleep over it.
What is it with the militant women's lib? Must every little thing be taken as an insult to femininity? Please, explain it to me. I promise not to laugh. 
As for that lass no offence my dear but you are laughable! |