SIPHO is sitting on the sofa watching television. PORTIA sneaks up behind him and conceals a package behind his chair.

PORTIA: How are you, my boy?

SIPHO: I'm not a boy anymore, Ma.

PORTIA: You're right, you're a big man now. [Pause.] 17 years … today?

SIPHO [annoyed]: 16 … yesterday.

PORTIA: Yesterday? Happy Birthday.

SIPHO: You forgot!

PORTIA [wearily]: When you work so many night shifts in a row you lose track of what day it is. I'm tired.

SIPHO: I'm tired too …

PORTIA: They're putting pressure on me at the station. [Pause.]

SIPHO: Tired of hearing how tired you are, Ma.

PORTIA: Rub your mamma's shoulders?

SIPHO: No, Ma.

PORTIA: I've been running after tsotsis all week. That bulletproof vest has been hurting my shoulders.

SIPHO: Does this mean I get a raise in my pocket money?

PORTIA: R10.

SIPHO: R20.

PORTIA: R20!!!

SIPHO: And you pay upfront.

PORTIA: Upfront? [She removes her purse and giveshim R20.] Come … come. [She pats her shoulders impatiently. SIPHO starts to massage them.] How is school going?

SIPHO: Ma, I don't want to go back to school anymore … it's a waste of time.

PORTIA: But you are doing so well. Usufuna ukuba uskhotheni, uhlale ema-tuckshop ufuqa amagwinya? [You want to be a skhotheni hanging around the tuck shop eating gwinyas all day?]

SIPHO: No Ma, I want to be a musician. They are not teaching me anything that interests me.

PORTIA: Ai! Gentle umfana wami. Did you make us some dinner?

SIPHO: There was nothing in the fridge.

PORTIA: Nothing? Shall I make us a sandwich?

SIPHO: There's no bread.

PORTIA [confused]: But I went shopping …

SIPHO: A week ago! [Pause.] I'm a growing man.

PORTIA [laughing]: Ja, uyafuqa! With a grown-man's appetite. I'll take you out on my next night off, nê? We'll go to a restaurant to celebrate properly. [PORTIA remembers the packet she arrived with.] You really thought I forgot? I want you to open it.

PORTIA: These are the ones you wanted, nê?