Eish! Really? No alcohol for pregnant women in Gauteng!

Dear SAPeople

It’s now public news that the powers that be in Gauteng are perhaps a little deluded – or maybe they simply forgot about the order of their priorities in addressing the serious levels of “enforceable crime” in our beautiful country.

I’m referring to the draft Gauteng Liquor Bill of 2012, which was released on Monday. According to section 53(1) of the Draft, a licensed liquor trader would not be permitted to sell, supply or give alcohol to (amongst others) pregnant women.

“Pregnant women in Gauteng are in for a surprise next time they stop off to buy a bottle of champagne,” said DA spokesman Gavin Lewis in a statement.

Certainly, babies and unborn children should not be exposed to maternal alcohol consumption, but realistically, this is always going to be a choice.

This new bill therefore really does leave a huge margin for comical error.

I remember the day when I was pregnant with my second child, my tuned-in toddler enthusiastically galloped up to a woman in an airport and asked to feel her baby kick in her very pregnant tummy – to which she replied “you can darling, but there is no baby in there, I just have a fat tummy”.

My toddler pointed to me and said “Oh, yes, yours is fat then – see, my mommy has a real baby in there”.

I wished the earth would swallow us up…and quickly waddled off to the far end of the aisle and ducked behind the perfumes.

It is one thing when an innocent child makes an honest faux pas, but we all know that women ordering their Friday tipple with ‘six packs’ are far and few between. Most of us, especially those of us given the good grace of bearing children, sport little – or not so little – muffin tops. We are told we have to love and embrace our bodies as we are (at least according to Dove Cream) – and live and let live in skinny jeans anyway.

So ladies, next time you order that shandy, you’re left with a few possible choices. Forgo flirting and wear sack-like clothing, or… start nightly sit ups…lots of them, or getting comfortable with disclosing you are “just premenstrual” to the barman. Last but not least, you can always offer to pee on his swizzle stick.