Pick ‘n Pay sat around and thought to themselves, “what could make shopping with kids at our store more painful for parents?” and one bright spark put up his hand and said “yes, let’s make Stikeez!”

Initially the brain storming crew could not understand what the pull of making parents spend R150.00 at their stores to get a “toy” which probably cost less than 8 cents to manufacture would do to the children and the parents.

What is the appeal here —– I mean really.

People sat around and said it was a shit idea and would not work.

It was an 8 cents crap toy for goodness sake – you could pop over to McDonalds and get a semi decent toy for less than R5.00 with a kids meal, or if you were feeling thrifty and thought fuck the kids meal, you could just buy the toy.

The group fought a bit and eventually everyone just gave up and left it to Larry and his team to introduce these ridiculous “Stikeez” toys. No one believed that the toys would work.

But most of the team thought Larry was a bit of a wanker anyway and really just wanted the meeting to end early, so they could go and get a few beers, without Larry and his zany ideas.

Larry spear headed the programme.

In short you purchase R150.00 at Pick ‘n Pay and the till operator throws one of the toys into your packet of purchases. You spend R450.00 and you get three toys.

I have three children – try the fuck and come home with two. I dare you!!!

Larry it appears is some sort of a genius – possibly an idiot savante – or just a regular idiot I need to beat with the long end of my desk lamp.

Larry has basically fucked up shopping for me – entirely.

I used to view grocery shopping as a 45 – 90 minute exercise of getting away from my kids.

I would cruise the aisles with my earpiece in, listening to what ever music I liked at a volume called “deafening” and enjoy the few moments I had to myself at Pick ‘n Pay. Merrily shopping for what ever was on my shopping list.

Not a care in the world, if you take away the little issue about whether I will be able to pay for all of this shit when I got to the end – that besides.

In some cases just idly going along so that I could avoid three children screaming at me.

It was the few moments of peace and respite I could enjoy in my day.

I would get home and actually no one gave a shit that I got home. With shopping. I had to beg and plead, and sometimes mildly threaten to get my kids to help unload the car.

Larry has forever fucked that up for me. Royally,

I get home now. Even from the local biltong store, and they are on me like lice. Begging, pleading, searching and basically frisking me for Stikeez.

It was sort of cute for the first two or three days, now it is annoying.

Last night my youngest burst into tears as she unwrapped a Stikeez (which I had to buy R150.00 of crap to get) and it was not the little doggie she wanted.

Ungrateful little bitch. She has 14 Stikeez. Quick maths. 14 x R150.00 = fuck loads of money.

She seriously burst into tears.

I seriously lost the last shred of my shit on this particular subject.

I called her back and told her that if she ever EVER cried, moaned, lamented, beseeches me about Stikeez again, I was going to take them all and toss them out the window whilst driving on the N1 at 120km/h.

I do not threaten …. I do.

You only have to throw a cake out of a window ONCE on the N1 before the kids fully understand not to fuck with you when you are driving.

And a threat has a real outcome.

ONE chocolate cake out of your car window at full speed to teaches everyone a valuable lesson about screaming and whining about chocolate cake and and and ……… the result is a chocolate cake speeding past you travelling in the opposite direction to before it connects the tar of the national highway.

After that usually dead silence in the car. It’s a powerful image.

She looked at me and burst into tears and said “I LOVE JORDAN…”

Side bar note: Jordan is my ex-husband’s girlfriend who died tragically and suddenly the week before last. It is still a very raw pain for everyone involved, and several people are still walking around dazed and confused trying to adjust to the situation. Everyone in our family has been shaken by it. None of this is in anyway related to Stikeez

My daughter throwing a bitch fit over Stikeez and then tying this to a tragic and rather fresh death was a bit more than I could take for one evening.

I called/yanked her over and made it clear that as much as I understood she loved and missed Jordan, making her issues about “Stikeez” connected to Jordan’s death was somewhat unfair to Jordan, and further pushed my issues around “Stikeez.”

I think the only thing to be said here is —- well played Larry at Pick ‘n Pay and your team for introducing what can only be described as the most ridiculous and most coveted items for children. Well played. {introduces slow clap}

I hope you get a case of chlamydia – you and your entire team. And it is drug resistant.