Your feet smell

After about 4 years of regular holidays at Habonim camps, I became a 'Madricha' ( group leader) back home in charge of the 'Shtilims' ( 8/9 year olds.) That Summer I volunteered to be a Madricha at camp too, foregoing my own freedom and pleasures to look after a tent of little boys. I was nearly qualified as a teacher by then and was well able to manage these little scallywags. Bedtime was always a laugh. They used to be given time to shower and change in their tent and then I would go in for last inspection before lights out. Of course they didn't go straight to sleep after that, giggling and pillow fights ensued often late into the night. I had to go in many more times to tell them to 'shut up', before I could get any rest. I never knew just how dirty litle boys could be. They never washed, never brushed their teeth, didn't change clothes, just dived into their sleeping bags and zipping them up before I arrived. The usual interrogation followed, till I eventually forced them to get up, go and wash, brush their teeth and change, before I would leave the tent. They always did this very good naturedly,that's why i prefer boys to girls (even in the classroom). Little did I know till I became a mother myself, that at this age boys are completely oblivious to their own smells, and will wallow in being dirty, unwashed and smelly for as long as they can get away with it. Gob bless all mums of 9 year old boys!

Boswell Wilkie Circus

Every year we went to the circus. I absolutely loved the circus. In fact when we knew they were arriving, we usually crowded round the day before it started, watching them set up camp. The big top, the caravans parked at the back, the smell of the animals,the sparkly costumes, the sawdust and popcorn. I loved it all. It was a fantasy world so far removed from my sorry little existence and it gave me such an adrenalin rush, I felt I was floating on air for days. My favourite acts were the lions, performing in hastily erected cages, the clowns with the funniest one called 'Tickey' and the trapeze artists. We all expected one of them (or both) to drop out of the sky and fall at our feet.
But the one memory that has remained with me all this time, is the elephants parading round the ring (often there were three rings now that I think back). One of them would inevitably end up lifting its tail and peeing in my mother's direction. Oh yes,I forgot to mention, for some reason we always had ring side seats. I would start chortling and get a rude slap across the face, but it was worth it just to witness her astonishment each time it happened. I wonder why he chose her?

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!