I am so dreadfully sorry to hear of your unfortunate altercation with a night adder. I hope beyond hope that the hospital food is to your liking. As promised, I will send the pink Cadillac to fetch you on discharge.

But, as they say, someone’s mishap is another’s happenstance. What a frightfully good idea to include an advise column in your magazine and I am honoured you have considered me to dispense wisdom to your readers. Though I know you wished to do this yourself, your faith in me will not go unrewarded. As you are aware I provided invaluable assistance to countless readers of Knitting with Dog Hair and Women’s Own after World War 11. How different can today’s problems be to those awful times?

Your assistant has kindly forwarded me a great number of queries from anxious readers. I am unable to deal with all of them here, but I will attend to the balance soonest.

So here goes:

Q: My son has recently joined a hip hop dance troupe and now wanders round the house clutching his crotch. This is very unsettling for my aged, conservative mother who lives with us. Please help, Nomsa, Soweto.

A: Dear Nomsa. Hip hop and dance are mutually exclusive terms so I suspect your pride and joy is not being completely open with you. Young men in South Africa are extremely respectful of their elders and I think he is hiding something he fears may hurt your sensitivities as a mother. My suggestion is to use a softer washing powder, which should remove the sensation of having ‘ants in his pants’. Itching to hear from you again, Trinity.

Q: I want to remarry my ex-husband. Is this advisable? Prudence, Kagiso.

A: Dear Prudence. Think of it this way: You find sour milk in the fridge, put it in the garbage for a couple of days and then say to yourself, ‘Gee, I wonder if it will taste any better now?’ Cautiously yours, Trinity.

Q: I want to get a gun for my husband. Can you recommend what calibre I should buy? Sarah, Morningside.

A: Dear Sarah. I am unable to help you at this point because you have not provided enough information. Please let me know if your purchase is intended as a gift or to blow his head off. Reload, Trinity.

Q: I am being forced into an arranged marriage. I am worried that I do not know my husband-to-be. Any suggestions? Roshni, Chatsworth.

A: Dear Roshni. Yours is a universal problem, but you are in a better position than the rest of us because no one can ever ask, ‘What were you thinking?’ Got to run, Trinity.

Q: Frederick, my husband of 20 years, bought home a copy of Cosmo from the doctor’s waiting room and suggested the month’s featured sex positions to spice up our lives. Should I oblige? Agnes, Camps Bay.

A: Dear Agnes. What a great idea! But in order not to land in traction I suggest the following: study them carefully; take up yoga to get yourself supple again; and then take a short walk to that gorgeous beach to find a young man to explore them with. As for Frederick’s unspiced life, tell him a little extra chilli with dinner should do the trick. Hot as always, Trinity.

Q: My boyfriend has walked out. What should I do? Pam, Glenhazel.

A: Dear Pam. Wave goodbye then shut the door. Toodleoo, Trinity.

Q: Where can I find a committed man? Desperate, Benoni.

A: Dear Desperate. In an asylum. Madly yours, Trinity.

Q: What are the secrets to a great relationship? Curious, Pretoria.

A: Dear Curious. Forget what Farhana Goga and Jonti Searll have to say on this topic. In my experience there are five secrets: It is important to find a man who works around the house, occasionally cooks and has a good job; it is important to find a man who makes you laugh; it is important to find a man who is dependable and does not lie; it is important to find a man who is good in bed; and it is critically important that these four men never meet. Revelations, Trinity.

Keep your problems flowing

Trinity Crimp