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Hmmmm …

For those of you who don’t really know me yet, I’m going to have to fill you in a bit on events with Son#1 so you have a bit of background info and you understand my frame of reference with regard to this post.

Son#1 started smoking, drinking and getting into drugs at an early age. His growing dependence on alcohol and narcotics progressed into a full-blown addiction and he recently spent 2 months in a treatment centre and is now a recovering addict.

For more on this, if you want some detail, please have a look at these posts:

  1. Shit is happening
  2. Tomorrow’s the big day
  3. Deep breaths
  4. Midnight drama
  5. The turning point
  6. An amazing milestone
  7. Another huge milestone

Mmk, if you’ve read all that, you now have a much better idea of what we’ve been through and why I’m feeling slightly distressed about the current events now unfolding. Events that seem to indicate that all this shit is re-emerging, this time with Son#2.

A couple of weeks ago, there was an incident involving Son#2, the school, a few cigarettes and a dodgy person hanging around the school perimeter who was later identified as a dealer. That was all a bit of a nasty, unexpected surprise but it was handled – both by me and the school – and the situation was diffused.

But now I’m facing another tough situation.

I went to fetch Son#2 last night from a friend’s house in Constantia and when he climbed into the car, I heard the unmistakable sound of bottles clinking in his bag. I asked him what was in his bag, and he said: “Nothing.”

I wasn’t happy with that answer so I asked him to open his bag and show me. He said: “Do we have to do this now? It’s bad.”

Me: “Yes. Open your bag please and show me what’s inside.”

He turned slightly pink, unzipped it and pulled out a half-empty bottle of Mampoer.


Mampoer is a South African drink – a distilled brandy made from fruit that has an alcohol content of 50%. The bottle is wrapped in barbed wire. He’s 14.

When I asked him what he was doing with it, he told me that one of the kids who had been with them that day had brought it and didn’t want to take it home in case he got into trouble and he asked Son#2 to take it for him and give it back to him the following day. AT SCHOOL! Son#2 was actually going to take this to school and give it to this kid?

Oh good grief.

I made him dump the bottle and gave him my unhappy speech about underage drinking and making unwise choices. He swore he never had more than one sip of the stuff (!?) and was only trying to help this other kid out …

So we pull into the driveway and “something” tells me that this is not the end. So I turn to him and ask him: “Is there anything else in your bag I should know about?”

“Yes.” *eyes cast down*

He pulls out 2 more bottles – Southern Comfort and Cain.


I was distraught. Again, he tells me the same story – he didn’t drink this and it’s for his friend … Then he says to me: “I don’t mind if you tell Dad, but PLEASE don’t tell my brother!” Interesting …

When I walked inside the house holding the two bottles, Son#1 looked at me and asked what was going on. So I told him. He said to me: “Mom, he’s lying. I know he’s drinking and he’s taking you for a ride. This is how the shit starts. I did exactly the same thing. You need to do something.”

Yes. I need to do something.

If Son#1 had not been through what he’s been through, I could probably write this all off to normal teen experimenting. But I’m not willing to take that chance. My gut tells me to take this very seriously.

The question is though … what the hell do I do?