What a couple of big girls blouses we are, eh Dave ? :Oops:
We had better keep it quiet and not broadcast it otherwise we're in for some serious stick. :Oops:
But it was a long time ago and my Mum couldn't work out why her independent little boy suddenly became clingy. When asked what was wrong I said nothing.
This became a repetitive theme all the way through childhood . . .
"What's up ?"
"Nothing."
"Where have you been ?"
"No where."
"Who have you been with ?"
"No one."
The good thing is we weren't allowed to have air guns, especially after my little brother got shot by someone after he put his whole body above the wall we were hiding behind. He was 6 at the time and I was worldly wise 8. And there's me having nightmares about my Mum dying from projectile wounds when it was little Bruv who stopped one. He didn't cry for ages and ages, that was until he thumbed the sore red spot on his stomach. I thought my Dad is gonna kill that ca hunt with the rifle. When Mum saw the flesh wound I thought she'll kill the ca hunt first and there won't be anything left for Dad to kill.
If Bruv hadn't fallen asleep during Bambi he'd have been worldly wise at 6. He was unbearable for ages after that, strutting about the house infront of our older brothers and sister proudly pointing to the spot. It didn't stop there, the playground and schoolyard aswell.
If anyone has a pop at Bruv now, he just laughs and says been there, done it and got the hole in the T shirt to prove it.
