That drunk idiot Jub Jub

My two daughters sometimes make their own way to school when they want to prove how well they can do without me. The oldest one walks and the other one rides her bicycle if the wheels aren’t pap.

The school is only about a kilometre away, but when I see them leaving through the front gate, I want to chew my heart in two. Anything could happen on that stretch of road.

“Walk on the pavement,” I yell after the walking one.  “And slow down it’s not a race,” I scream at the cycling one - who never hears me as she hurtles onto the road into the traffic.

They say I’m annoying in my worrying ways. And I really am. But I can’t forget that gospel singer Jub Jub (Molemo Maarohanye) who diced drunk, wrecked his car and killed four kids who were walking home from school in Soweto six months ago.

These days they call his killer Mini Cooper the Jub Jub. It’s not really fair on a nice little car that never asked to be driven by a drunk idiot. If I was a Mini Cooper, I would sue.

But names have a way of sticking – like calling the Combi taxi Zola Budd after that skinny bare-footed runner who tripped up Mary Decker in the Olympics.

When I wrote Chapter Three of Confessions of a Virgin Loser, I needed a car for Mondli to drive. I thought the Jub Jub was a good choice. It tells you everything you need to know about the driver.

If I saw Mondli driving his Jub Jub in my neighbourhood after school I would have a serious heart attack.

Teen2 wrecked her bike chain going down a hill too fast last week so the bike's out of action until she can persuade me to take it to the shop to get fixed. Until then I get to take her to school, which makes me really happy.