Do you like tapioca?


It was the kind of party where the guests speak to aliens…

You know the type.

My daughter and I went off to a birthday party on Saturday.

Not a kid one. A grown-up one.

While she made a new Best Friend Forever, I chatted to an interesting fellow who makes dynamite for a living and talks to aliens.

Both are fascinating endeavours, however I feel obliged to point out that perhaps those who talk to aliens should not be in charge of dynamite.

It was disconcerting when he would break off in the middle of a sentence, down a cold drink glass worth of Cherry Sours and then say, “Okay. Alright. They’re saying that…”

So, the down low is that there are three groups of dark creatures that want to steal your soul.

You have to look out for these guys; they can grab you in your sleep or dark alleys.

Basically, if you hear something that goes bump in the night.

Don’t be all horror flick heroine and go for a look see, just run.

Fast and without looking back.

The Greys are good guys.

You can trust them. They whisper in your head and can see through multiple dimensions.

Never try to have a staring contest with one. They don’t blink.

I have all this on excellent authority.

Totally blotto authority, but very authoritative nonetheless.

People who vibrate on lower frequencies have to face a lot of scary, bad stuff in their lives.

People, like me, I’m glad to add, vibrate on a higher level and so have pretty easy lives all in all.

Look, I know this all sounds pretty cray-cray, but he did have some excellent points.

Life is about choices and whether or not you to choose to learn from them.

Conscious decision-making means taking full responsibility for the outcome and consequences of each decision you make.

I can go with that. It’s very bumper sticker zen.

The tone of the conversation then descended into how we’re soul spirits and could he have my phone number because it’s not cheating if you want to bone someone on a spiritual level.

That’s when I decided it was a good time to blow that rice paddy.

I also threatened the birthday boy that he if gave out my phone number he could forget about karmic spiritual vengeance, I’d just kick his ass on a physical level.

Other party guests included the bisexual insurance agent who told me that all women are lesbians or at least bisexual and that I was lying about my true nature being in a heterosexual relationship.

I tried to explain politely, that unless Angelina dumps Brad and comes knocking on my door, it is highly unlikely I’ll become cunnilingual in the near future.

I made my escape when she decided to chaperone the girlfriend of another guest to the loo.

All in all it was pretty good party.

Killing time this morning I did an online test to find out if I am really from another planet.

In the middle of a long list of terribly esoteric questions came this one:

Do you like tapioca?

I have tried and failed to find a link between tapioca and being an alien.

I personally loathe tapioca and my husband loves it.

So, which one of us is ET?

I scored a 90, by the way, so definitely about to be beamed up.

Do the test:



How can I embarrass my child? Let me count the ways…

Copyright Derek Hardy
Copyright Derek Hardy

Way of the Warrior: Run flat-out into a wall at laser games and knock yourself out in front of all his friends.

Today I face planted.

I’ve never really understood that term until now.

Looking in the mirror I am mildly surprised my face is not flat.

It was not my proudest moment.


It was The Birthday Party today.

The party that has been freaking me out for weeks, months even.

Doctor Who Tardis Cake and DalekI spent yesterday afternoon making The Cake.

Of all the cakes each child requires I try to make one special cake.

For J it was Doctor Who’s TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimension in Space). A big blue police box.

The reason I do not outsource the cake is pretty simple.

Someone once told me that in Japan there is a saying that equates to, “You can tell the depth of a mother’s love by the content of her child’s lunchbox”.

I may not make award-winning cakes, but they are definitely made with love.

Robyn from Kadies
Robyn from Kadies

The girls at work sent me to Kadies in Fourways for supplies. I am no super baker. I don’t craft masterpieces of cakedom like Cake Boss’s flushing toilet cake.

John and Robyn Brukman from Kadies did not make me feel like an amateur on professional heavyweight fight night.

They went out of their way to help me earn the look of wonder on J’s face when he saw The Cake.

Kadies Heidi and John
Heidi and John from Kadies

They coloured my icing for me, cut out my numbers and waited with utmost patience while the bank and I had a small altercation about my right to access my money.

Without them I would have been certifiably insane by this morning and would have spent the day in lockdown in a mental institute being feed little coloured pills.

In retrospect, perhaps that might have been less painful than what actually transpired.

I am a lazy party parent. I do not like having people invade my home and I do not like cleaning up before and after them.

As a result I seek venues.

This is what I wanted to look like.
This is what I wanted to look like.

We decamped to LaserMaxx for three adrenaline-fraught Daleks versus The Doctors games to the death. In some cases more brutal than others.

The odds were stacked against my team.

Along with the tweens were The Father, a target shooting champion, and three ex-army infantrymen.

On my team I had one of them and thank God for him.  We managed one decent win.

This is what the kids looked like
This is what the kids looked like

In Game 2, I was determined to take out the sniper that was hell-bent on killing me.

I stormed his base.

I hit the base.


Flat out.


This what I ended up feeling like
This what I ended up feeling like

And my lights went out and Tweetie Birds sang a sweet serenade only slightly marred by the warm flow of my life’s blood streaming Nigeria Falls like down the lower half of my face.

The physical pain was nothing in comparison to the body blow my pride tried and failed to bear.

I lay down in the foetal position against the wall and begged the earth to stop spinning.

Whereupon I was shot by my child.

Who was actually on my team.

The Husband came to my rescue.

“Are you alright?”


“Well, just lie there, there’s a few minutes left of the game.”


I made the Walk of Shame past the twenty-somethings with pity shining in their eyes.

This would have been a better look
This would have been a better look

I got some ice from the bar.

I went and hid in the ladies loo.

Then my phone rang.

A colleague asked me to attend a client meeting with the potential to take my career into the stars.

I explained that my nose felt broken, I had a black eye and my lips look like Angelina Jolie after a silicon injection.

His response?

“Dude! Ask them if they have a video. That’s a YouTube moment.”

I hung up.

I stalked over to the chaps behind the counter.

“Is. There. A. Video?”

“Um… Well you know we’ve had way worse,” said A.

“Yup,” said B, “We’ve had like 6 foot guys knock down entire walls and stuff.”

“Is. There. A. Video?”

“Well, everything is recorded.”

“You. Will. Not. Put. That. On. YouTube.”

“No, ma’am,” came a chorus.

Better men than I. I would have that video up there faster than I ran into that wall.

After that the cake paled in comparison. I didn’t even blink an eye as my masterpiece was decimated.

My concussion had caused a massive headache and my ego required some downtime and a call to my mother who was very supportive and tried hard not to laugh at me.

The Father was invited to join the LaserMaxx league.

I was not.


Find LaserMaxx

Stoneridge Shopping Center, Shop M4 – Undercover Parking Level, Greenstone Hill,


Find Kadies

Kingfisher Shopping Centre, Kingfisher Drive, Fourways