Carol’s Column

Get away from it all with a 7-year hitch

I noticed with great interest that the Central Statistical Service has been busy statisticking again, which is, I suppose, what statistical services do.

Its latest statistics reveal that the average age of South African motor cars is 8,5 years. It appears that this is the time when cars show wear and tear, incur high maintenance costs and begin to disintegrate. Naturally, it makes good sense to replace the worn model with something newer and more reliable.

“You can’t argue with that philosophy,” said Agatha Crump at the book club meeting. “In fact, lateral thinkers would go one step further. It isn’t only motor cars that should be replaced after eight years. People should be replaced. Take the State Presidency, for instance. P W was old, tired and worn. He was replaced with a younger and friskier F W model in the pink of health and the results have been remarkable.”

We could only agree and the discussion was fast and fertile.

“Take marriage,” said Bertha Ginkel.

“Who wants to?” muttered my good friend Betty.

“Any intelligent working relationship works on a contract basis as, for instance, retirement when employees get to a certain age,” propounded Bertha authoritatively. “Marriage should be the same. If you think about it, the present system is insane.”

We thought about it and shuddered.

Bertha’s cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed as her enthusiasm grew.

“Marriage should have a time limit, say seven years. This is long enough in which to get to know each other, have fun and children before the rot sets in.”

“The rot?” queried Marion.

“You know, the toothpaste syndrome, the grunt experience, the drama of the diminishing hair and expanding belly, the limp libido and the tsetse trend.”

“The limp libido and diminishing hair are self explanatory,” said Betty, “but toothpaste, grunt and tsetse? I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple,” explained Bertha, “in the first three years of marriage, it doesn’t matter if your partner squeezes the toothpaste in the middle and leaves the top off, the flush of first love makes even undesirable toothpaste squeezing a pleasurable experience. After five years it’s irritating and after seven it is grounds for divorce.”

“After seven years, couples no longer communicate, instead they grunt to each other. And how often haven’t you been struck down by the tsetse trend?”

We looked mystified.

“It happens to me every night no matter where we are, at home, with friends or watching TV. I’ll be talking, my husband will grunt and, then suddenly the tsetse trend strikes. His eyes shut, his mouth opens and he has instant sleeping sickness.”

“You know,” said Betty, “in the new spirit of change with the hopeful repeal of the Group Areas Act and the Separate Amenities Act, perhaps we should agitate for a repeal of the existing Marriages Act, such as it is.”

Marion agreed.

“We’ll campaign for seven-year marriage contracts which should cover everything and provide for the itch too.”

Personally I have been astonished by the positive response to the idea of a seven-year marriage contract. Naturally, we have included four options — expiry, renewal, trade-in or re-negotiation.

On the home front, my spouse wasn’t altogether happy at the new turn of events.

“What do you mean we’re well into expiry time?” he grunted querulously.

Based on the statistics gleaned from the Central Statistical Service, I explained the empirical theory of wear and tear. In fact, I’d just got to the toothpaste syndrome bit when I noticed the tsetse trend had struck. Obviously, a seven-year marriage contract wasn’t something that fired his imagination.

Well, that’s what I thought. And then only this morning I arrived home from the supermarket to find a strange blonde in my bedroom. I was speechless. It was obvious my marriage partner had taken me literally and effected a trade-in.

Just then, the phone rang.

“Hi,” said my husband, “has the curtain woman arrived to measure the bedroom curtains yet?”

Ah well.

Theory is all very well, but when it comes to the crunch, a well-worn takkie is much more comfortable than a new Gucci shoe.

I think.

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