Katlego knew the moment he stepped into the house that the war had begun. The scent of Domestos hit his nose like a warning shot. The floors were so shiny he could almost see his future reflected in them—one where he was constantly being yelled at for existing in the newly cleaned home.
His wife had just finished cleaning. That meant for the next few hours, their house was no longer a home—it was a museum—a sacred temple of cleanliness where he, the husband, and the kids were the greatest threat.
As he put his car keys down on the counter, he felt the heat of her stare. “Katlego,” she said, her voice as calm as a lioness before she pounces on an unsuspecting gazelle. “Did you just put your dirty hands on my fridge?”
Katlego froze. He looked at the sleek black Samsung fridge door. The horror. There it was—his fingerprint. His fingerprints were out of place like an absent father who made a guest appearance at a family function with the in-laws.
A single, bold accusation against his existence. He had two options: deny or run. He chose the third—distraction.
“Ah, babe, did you see what the government is doing now?” he said, pointing at the TV that was still off.
She folded her arms. “Wipe it.”
And, thats when he knew that the day was going to be longer than a month-end queue at Capitec.
He sighed, grabbed a dishcloth, and wiped it like a politician trying to wipe off all the evidence of the kickbacks he received during a tender process.
Then came the bathroom test. He washed his hands, careful not to splash a single drop of water onto the pristine sink. But as he turned to grab a towel, she appeared behind him like a cleaning ninja. “Did you wipe the tap?”
Katlego’s soul left his body for a second. He turned back slowly. There it was. A single, treacherous drop of water clinging to the chrome tap like a slay queen when her blesser’s wife discovers their affair. He quickly grabbed toilet paper and wiped it down, hoping she wouldn’t notice the panic in his movements.
Feeling like he had survived two rounds of this Olympic event, he made his way to the lounge. He was exhausted. All he wanted was to sink into the couch, watch some soccer, and just be.
He had barely touched the cushion when—
“Katlego!”
He jumped up. “What?!”
She pointed at the couch like it was a crime scene. “You’re ruining the fluff!”
“The fluff?” Katlego looked at the perfectly arranged scatter cushions. They looked like something out of a Geen & Richards catalogue. “Babe, but this couch is for sitting.”
“It’s for looking good. Sit properly or sit on the floor.”
Katlego considered his options. The couch was out. The bed was too risky—she had probably smoothed out the duvet with military precision. The dining chair was cold and uncomfortable. He sighed and went outside, at least to breathe freely.
Big mistake.
When he walked back in, her eyes zoomed in on his feet like a crime lab scanner. “Are you bringing sand into my clean house?”
Katlego looked down. He couldn’t even see the sand, but somehow, she could. She always could.
Defeated, he mumbled, “I’m going to bed.”
“Don’t forget to shower first,” she called after him.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Katlego earned gold in the sport of Being Married in a Spotless House.
[End]
Welcome to South Africa – Jou Ma Se Boek
Welcome to South Africa – Jou Ma se Boek includes an A4 book, with an enamel cup, packaged in a premium box. It’s a coffee table book that details the extraordinary life of an ordinary South African. Personal deliveries (JHB, PTA, Midrand) will include the shopping bag.
326 in stock (can be backordered)
