take one woman with low self esteem, but quite good hair
add one moronic illness
stir in some medication which causes hair to fall out
mix it all up and this is what you get...
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
"Mum's gone out without you"...
...they would chant, to the tune of "nerrr nerrr ner nerrr nerrr".
One of my abiding memories of childhood.
And proof that anxiety, far from being an adult trend, is something which has followed me throughout my life like a rather annoying puppy which constantly yaps around at my feet, slobbers on me from time to time and never really leaves me alone.
On Saturday mornings, when my brother was old enough to supervise his three younger sisters, my mother would take advantage of the free childcare to get the shopping done. Very sensible of her to decide NOT to take four kids along to the supermarket; I do remember a couple of fiascos from the days before my brother was old enough. Getting my arm stuck between the trolley handle and the trolley was one, and rushing out of the lift doors at the wrong floor, turning round to see that my mummy wasn't there and getting very scared indeed is another example which springs to mind.
So, on these Saturday mornings, we'd have a "getting dressed race" (which involved putting clothes on whilst still in bed) and troop downstairs to watch Swapshop or Tiswas.
Inevitably, there would come a time when I would start to worry.
"Mummy's not back yet"
"Don't worry, little Anx, she'll be back soon, she's gone shopping"
"B-b-b-but, she's normally back by now"
"Oh, she's probably chatting to [next door neighbour] or has run into [some other friend] in town"
"B-b-b-but what if something's happened to her?"
And so it would go on...
There's probably only so much whining the elder siblings could take, especially when it would get in the way of their enjoyment of "The bucket of water song". And so after a while they would sing their song of torture:
"Mum's gone out without you, mum's gone out without you..."
I love my siblings...
It seems that the torture continues today, albeit in a different guise. I am currently being bombarded by a constant stream of emails. Christmas lists, not just for my three siblings but for their partners, children and step-children too. I am drowning in "gift ideas". Yet another source of anxiety...
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One of my abiding memories of childhood.
And proof that anxiety, far from being an adult trend, is something which has followed me throughout my life like a rather annoying puppy which constantly yaps around at my feet, slobbers on me from time to time and never really leaves me alone.
On Saturday mornings, when my brother was old enough to supervise his three younger sisters, my mother would take advantage of the free childcare to get the shopping done. Very sensible of her to decide NOT to take four kids along to the supermarket; I do remember a couple of fiascos from the days before my brother was old enough. Getting my arm stuck between the trolley handle and the trolley was one, and rushing out of the lift doors at the wrong floor, turning round to see that my mummy wasn't there and getting very scared indeed is another example which springs to mind.
So, on these Saturday mornings, we'd have a "getting dressed race" (which involved putting clothes on whilst still in bed) and troop downstairs to watch Swapshop or Tiswas.
Inevitably, there would come a time when I would start to worry.
"Mummy's not back yet"
"Don't worry, little Anx, she'll be back soon, she's gone shopping"
"B-b-b-but, she's normally back by now"
"Oh, she's probably chatting to [next door neighbour] or has run into [some other friend] in town"
"B-b-b-but what if something's happened to her?"
And so it would go on...
There's probably only so much whining the elder siblings could take, especially when it would get in the way of their enjoyment of "The bucket of water song". And so after a while they would sing their song of torture:
"Mum's gone out without you, mum's gone out without you..."
I love my siblings...
It seems that the torture continues today, albeit in a different guise. I am currently being bombarded by a constant stream of emails. Christmas lists, not just for my three siblings but for their partners, children and step-children too. I am drowning in "gift ideas". Yet another source of anxiety...
<< Home