My friend X had her kitchen tea (emphasis on “tea”) this weekend and being a laatlammetjie (she’s the last born of three, her big sister is 20 years her senior) the afternoon was bound to have its brow raising moments.

It was a tea party and although as a pregnant fairy I welcomed all the cake and tarts I did wish we could have the naughtiness of a bachelorette party though. But with X’s mother and her whole crochet and baking group present, alcohol was already a big no-no, leaving the business card of the male stripper I met at a party in March still unused…again.

At No.3’s garage party (bachelor’s party) on the other side of town, Bones was trying to call in a favor to an old college friend who stripped at a club in Pretoria. I was relieved to find out that Spouse convinced him not to go through with it as X’s father was present and he is anti-, well, everything.

But the prudery did not kill X’s sister’s youngest daughter’s (who’s one year older than X) enthusiasm to still put her aunt in the hot seat…

Background….

X, used to have the best conservative façade I’ve ever seen. Only her closest friends knew of the little devil that lurked beneath the surface. But in spite of that, X had to be the most responsible person I ever knew, too. That’s why when she fell pregnant last year with on again, off again boyfriend No.3 (named so because he was the third guy who stood her up as a date for my wedding, forcing her to go with Bones as an eleventh hour arrangement) we thought it was her idea of a late April Fool’s joke…9 months later Baby Z was born, 12 January. Both her parents and his parents put pressure on them to get married asap, but she stood her ground and decided that she’ll get married on her own terms when she felt like it. That day is in three weeks.

…as X emerged from the bedroom wearing dish clothes, clothing pegs and pot scrubbers her nieces, sister and sister-in-law forced her into (I decided not to help with the dress-up, with a stork party coming up, I really couldn’t afford to have any grudges against me.), Stella forced a huge banana into X’s hand. Once we all settled down, she started her speech:  “Uhm well, we know with you getting married the urge might be there to add to your family. But we think that for now your baby does not need a brother nor a sister, so….” Suggestively she took the blue little square from her bra, “…we would like to make sure that you know how to use this.” A bubbly cough from inside a tea cup made me look up towards the crochet club. At first most of them looked confused at the blue little square, prying their necks to try and figure out what exactly it was.

X started to giggle and shook her head. “How am I supposed to do that?” she asked sarcastically.

Stella rolled her eyes. “Did you think I gave you the banana to eat?”

Again I peeked at the crochet club that now looked like they were passing a lime wedge between them. I snigger escaped my lips and by trying to suppress it, it turned into a grunt that made matter worse because now I’ve opened the gate for anybody under 40 to have a giggling fit.

Her hands were sweaty so she took the wrapper between her teeth and sensually tore it open with her teeth. Out fell the slimy latex and I could hear “disgusting” being muttered from the crochet club’s side of the room. But then X had to push it and play with it first stretching it, blowing it up before roughly snapping it onto the banana (which she was holding between her legs for better grip).

I couldn’t decide whose thoughts I wanted to read the most at that moment: X’s mother (I should’ve put some more effort into our birds and bees talk), her future mother-in-law (My poor, poor boy) or the tall and skinny lady from the crochet club who was eyeing me from behind her oversized glasses, probably trying to read my thoughts (I was mostly concentrating on not peeing in my pants at that moment, nothing interesting) or maybe the thoughts of nine month old Baby Z, on who’s kitchen tea we’ll be the crochet club in twenty years or so…..