I was in the bank this morning ordering a new card - picture it - I was carrying Daniels baby-bag on my back, Daniel in one hand and his blanket and my car keys in the other. So I get to the counter and I have to put Daniel's blanket on the counter and then sit him on top of it just to free up one of my hands. I then take his bag off my back and put it on the counter next to him - this then allows me to take out my ID to show the clerk.
Whilst this is going on, Daniel is "singing" at the top of his lungs (it is his new noise) and just as I get my ID out Daniel spits-up milk all over the place - down my top, on the counter, all down himself and eventually on the floor. By now I am starting to feel really embarrassed and all I can smell is milk.. euuuw! So I say to the clerk (while at the same time mopping milk up from all corners of the earth), "I think God should give parents more hands, in fact, everytime you have a child you should automatically sprout a new hand - everyone in the bank chuckles and I feel a little better.
As I am leaving the bank, a dear little old lady grabs my arm and whispers to me, "Jacob Zuma has 18 children, if he sprouted a hand for every child he wouldn't be able to walk up-right!"
Ha ha ha.. I had a good chuckle at that one.. there was no way for her to have known that Jacob Zuma (and everything surrounding him) is an interest of mine!