Going a.w.o.l.

When I was about 5 years old, I decided to take my brother, Ian, off to see the shops. We lived in a small rural town, with sandy roads and a few scattered street lamps. The central business district where all the main shops, banks and departmental stores were situated, as well as my father's bicycle shop (called Northlands Cycle Works), was where I was heading.
Off we trotted walking the ten blocks to town. In the meantime, Miriam, our Sotho Nanny, was frantically calling my mother to tell her we had gone a.w.o.l. One minute we had been playing in the back yard, the next minute we were gone.
As we reached 'town' and were ambling along, my mother suddenly appeared out of nowhere swerving the car round the corner searching for us. Her eyes were wild with anger, as she screeched to a halt, leapt out of the car, and started hitting me with her hands to the head and face and ears. The expression' I will box your ears', is one I understand completely, even to this day! I promise, I never ever took Ian to 'town' again!

Rumble in the Jungle (Pietersburg)

Of course we often used to bicker and quarrel, as all siblings do, at the age of probably 7 and 8 years old. And Ma used to shout and shout, as all mothers do. One day she came home from work with a pair of boxing gloves, and called us outside on to the front lawn. She put the right one on me and the left on Ian, which was very fair as I was right-handed, and he was left-handed. The other hand had to be kept behind our backs. Oh yes, there were rules to this 'game'. She then said, 'Now fight, but do it properly this time!' Of course, we didn't want to, and she then shouted, ' You will fight, come on hit him, hit her, and then you're both going to get a bloody good hiding and go to bed without any supper'. Of course this made us want to punch even less, knowing what our fate would be. And so it was , no good punches were thrown, no satisfaction was achieved and no supper was had that day!