RELUCTANT PRESS

"MOTHER'S GIRL"

By Joyce

There must be some two thousand, million mother-son relationships on the go in this world of our's at any one time. This makes for a wide spectrum of possibilities, so some people are bound to strike it lucky sometimes. The TV rigmarole had been part of the furniture of the mind for as long as I can remember and no one, not even Mom, had any idea of my preoccupation with dressing up. How then shall I ever forget that rainy Sunday afternoon in 1938; I had dressed myself up in fantasy a thousand times before I was 14. At the time we were living in a three room flat in Joubert Street in Johannesburg.

On the particular day in question I was reading THE MAGNET; when I think about it now, it is quite extraordinary how these public schoolboy stories gripped the imagination of working class youngsters all over the English speaking world, who had about as much chance of getting into such a school as flying to the moon.

Mom was busy at her sewing machine. Looking up from her sewing, she said, "Doug, darling, would you like to tell me when you last had a bath?"

"Thursday," I replied.

"Well don't you think it is time you had another. We don't want you smelling like new mown hay after it has been through the horse, do we now?".

"All right," I replied cheerfully, "when I have finished this comic.

"Well don't be too long, will you, because I want you to be my guinea pig. I've bought a new cream for my legs and un-

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JOYCE'S GIRLS BY JOYCE

derarms but Doreen said it didn't suit her skin as it made it come out blotchy all over." (Doreen was Mom's best friend.) "I'm sure our skins are much the same yours and mine, I mean, so will you be a dear and try it out for me first?"

"What's it do to you?" I asked. I think I suspected it was a hair remover but I pretended to be a bit dense.

"Oh, it just makes one's skin look nice," said Mom vaguely. "Will you?"

"Yea, I suppose so," I replied a little guardedly.

"You're a darling; it's in the medicine cupboard in the bathroom. Go and cream your legs and underarms then you can come back here and finish your comic. I think you should keep it on for about 15 minutes then you can go and run your bath and wash it all off."

I disappeared into the bathroom, stripped down to my underpants and smeared the new unguent on liberally. It was faintly scented. I made my way back to the sewing room.

"I must say, it smells all right," said Mom approvingly. After fifteen minutes I drew my bath and wallowed there for twenty minutes, to emerge as smooth as a shaved egg. "Let me see your legs," said Mom enquiringly as I returned to her sewing room with the towel around me.

"No, come closer, I want to run by hand up and down them. Yes, I think that's just what I need; I think Doreen's skin must be a bit overly sensitive I can't see any blotches. Now, I haven't finished with you yet. I shall be needing a dummy in five minutes to get the hem of this dress right. Will you be my living, breathing, sweet-smelling dummy for five minutes?"

"People will laugh," I replied nervously and with a racing

heart.

"Yes, this room is rather full of people", said Mom teasingly.

"What a silly goose you are. Only I am going to see you and I certainly won't laugh. Tell you what, I'll HIRE you for half a crown for thirty minutes of modeling; I'm sure that's

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