When she was pregnant with me, my mum worked at the Atomic Energy. I don't think she personally handled atoms and I don't think whatever she did there harmed me in any way. Her best friend at the Atomic was carrying at the same time. A girl.
I was born in the cold December of 1961. A Wednesday's woeful child, full of tears.
I've still got the mark where they put the needle in. Antibiotics straight into my chubby little leg. I've got the mark but not the memory. I remember nothing from baby years.
The first thing I can recall is riding my tricycle, legs pumping away like manic sausages, heading along the pavement for my dad as he came home from work, a packet of Murraymints for my consumption about his person.
I don't remember our dog. Dino was named after the Flintstones' pet dinosaur and loved nothing more than to eat my mum's cigarettes. The possible risks of having a small child and a dog together were thought insignificant. But a small child and a dog who eats your cigarettes were too much for my mum's meagre housekeeping to handle. The cigarettes were essentials. So either the child or the dog had to go...
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Surely they were too good to Hurrymints?
ReplyDeleteI bet it was a battle of Wills over the cigarettes.
poor dog, no wonder you can't remember him then.
ReplyDeleteIf it were me with a child and a dog and I had to choose, the dog would have stayed.
ReplyDeleteBut then I'm not a smoker.
But we're glad she chose you.
Rog - They were too good to hurry. The cigarettes crop up again and again in my story. No dog 'til I was 20.
ReplyDeleteZiggi - I'd rather have a dog that chews tobacco than a cat that sniffs snuff.
MJ - I'd choose the dog, too. Unless it were a Cairns terrier then both would have to go.
The thing stealing my mum's cigarettes in our house was me.
ReplyDelete"manic sausages"
ReplyDelete:-)
I just hope you had SKY TV in your kennel Geoff.
ReplyDeleteRog - You were chewing baccy, too?
ReplyDeleteTim - Porky pistons.
Kaz - And a nice stereo with powerful woofers.
Poor you. All those years in a children's home.
ReplyDeleteWe didn't have a dog so I learned pretty quickly not to try and compete with a packet of Players.
ReplyDeleteDid your mom do the coupons?
That Quit Smoking Pooch would be called a working Dog nowadays and he would be worth a pretty penny.
ReplyDeleteThis is starting off much happier than I had anticipated. :)
Please do go on...
Laura - And that darned dog got the best of everything.
ReplyDeleteArabella - Green Shield and Co-op stamps.
Donn - The first few years are the happiest. The next 45 are unmitigated misery :(
I thought you were joking about the autobiog. Great idea and a great read so far. I'm guessing they kept the dog and you ended up in a home, right.
ReplyDeleteA nation of dog lovers would expect nothing less.
ReplyDelete