A while back I mentioned playing Pooh-sticks at bridges on rivers. Well, some time ago we discovered another game which provides the young mind with as much fun – but only once per victim. It is called Poo-stone.
Many years ago, in the middle of nowhere in Zululand, we found a smallish stone of interesting appearance. In fact, I can’t remember what overcame my certainty that it was exactly what it appeared to be, and inspired me to pick it up. I think I inadvertently kicked it and it behaved like a poo doesn’t.
Yes, it is a completely genuine stone, and quite a heavy one at that. Naturally, it was promptly collected with mischief in mind.
I well recall the disgust with which my late mother-in-law discovered it on one of her lounge chairs. Her poor innocent cat came in for a tongue-lashing of note. She was not particularly amused when the offending matter was revealed for what it really was – but we certainly were!
Today I unearthed it from a cupboard and used it to good effect on our long-suffering housekeeper by placing it on a white settee. She uttered strong Zulu words of dismay and collected some tissue for its removal. To her credit, she laughed like a drain when its true nature was revealed.
Of course, young R was entranced – after she had overcome a very marked reluctance to go anywhere near it. Even after she had seen her mother and grandfather handling it with impunity, she was inclined to take it at appearance value. Once she did touch it, though, she became undie-turd by it *giggle* and entered with enthusiasm into a plot to place it on her father’s pillow. She immensely enjoyed his (over-) reaction. Even the stone smiled. (Talk about a rock face showing e-motion!)
I think the Poo-stone is destined to become a valued family heirloom.
© Colonialist October 2011 (Letterdash/Wordpress Blogs)