"Oh Father"
Today I thought I'd use the Timeline to find a story to tell you.
Jan 28 1988: Became a man, heard my dad properly swear for first time.
My Dad was an often stern man. He would go to work, come home, read the evening paper, have tea, watch the news & go to the pub. That's not to say he never showed his lighter side, he often could be heard laughing & joking with me & Our Kid.
I have lot's of wonderful memories of just being with Dad. He'd take to me pictures alot, indulge my passion for Star Wars by taking me toy shopping to get a new figure to play with & sometimes on a Saturday night he'd take just me to the club. The club was East Ardsley Working Men's Club. There we would meet up with Nana & Grandad, Only Uncle & my cousin; The Loudest One. Me & her would tear about the place occasionally returning to the family's table to get 10p for the jukebox in the other room or to plead for a packet of crisps (That's potato chips to you, C!) or a glass of lemonade. We had to be silent while the bingo was on, we'd learnt the hard way that old school Yorkshire folk did not tolerate their precious bingo being disturbed. Anyway, I digress.
The club was about 2 miles away from our house, we'd get the last bus halfway home & walk the rest of the way. I loved those walks, Dad would have no distractions & a skinfull of best bitter. As we walked we talked. We talked of James Bond, the stars in the night sky, what it was like for him being a kid in the war & with no telly!
If we were lucky we'd get back to our street before the fish shop closed & I'd be sent running down the street with a fiver to get some fish & chips, while Dad would go in, make a cup of tea & butter some bread. (Thinking about it now, he probably had a bit of a cuddle with mum too).
Through all these times I'd never heard my Dad swear. Even when Mum had one of her Holiday hissy fits or when I'd broke something, never a bad word. Nothing worse than bloody or bugger.
So on January 28th 1988, I went out for a few drinks up town with my girlfriend, Horny As Hell. Then as she got her last bus home, I made my way halfway home to meet up with Dad & Only Uncle. They bought me a pint or two and took the mickey out of me mercilessly. Then without warning (Though I'm sure he gave Only Uncle a nudge) Dad turned to me & said
"Son, How do you get dandruff off a cunt?"
I stood dumbstruck, smiling over my astonishment & trying not to sound as freaked out as I was.
"Err, Dunno" I replied.
With that my dad put his hand on my shoulder... & brushed it.
Jan 28 1988: Became a man, heard my dad properly swear for first time.
My Dad was an often stern man. He would go to work, come home, read the evening paper, have tea, watch the news & go to the pub. That's not to say he never showed his lighter side, he often could be heard laughing & joking with me & Our Kid.
I have lot's of wonderful memories of just being with Dad. He'd take to me pictures alot, indulge my passion for Star Wars by taking me toy shopping to get a new figure to play with & sometimes on a Saturday night he'd take just me to the club. The club was East Ardsley Working Men's Club. There we would meet up with Nana & Grandad, Only Uncle & my cousin; The Loudest One. Me & her would tear about the place occasionally returning to the family's table to get 10p for the jukebox in the other room or to plead for a packet of crisps (That's potato chips to you, C!) or a glass of lemonade. We had to be silent while the bingo was on, we'd learnt the hard way that old school Yorkshire folk did not tolerate their precious bingo being disturbed. Anyway, I digress.
The club was about 2 miles away from our house, we'd get the last bus halfway home & walk the rest of the way. I loved those walks, Dad would have no distractions & a skinfull of best bitter. As we walked we talked. We talked of James Bond, the stars in the night sky, what it was like for him being a kid in the war & with no telly!
If we were lucky we'd get back to our street before the fish shop closed & I'd be sent running down the street with a fiver to get some fish & chips, while Dad would go in, make a cup of tea & butter some bread. (Thinking about it now, he probably had a bit of a cuddle with mum too).
Through all these times I'd never heard my Dad swear. Even when Mum had one of her Holiday hissy fits or when I'd broke something, never a bad word. Nothing worse than bloody or bugger.
So on January 28th 1988, I went out for a few drinks up town with my girlfriend, Horny As Hell. Then as she got her last bus home, I made my way halfway home to meet up with Dad & Only Uncle. They bought me a pint or two and took the mickey out of me mercilessly. Then without warning (Though I'm sure he gave Only Uncle a nudge) Dad turned to me & said
"Son, How do you get dandruff off a cunt?"
I stood dumbstruck, smiling over my astonishment & trying not to sound as freaked out as I was.
"Err, Dunno" I replied.
With that my dad put his hand on my shoulder... & brushed it.
And that's what Flash thinks today @ 22:18
3 Comments:
At 2:08 am,
shorty said…
Well where do I begin. I love this story. Tell us another. Please.
I'm only to assume C is me, and I figured crisps out, but I need an American English translation for skinfull of best bitter????
The rest I got.
At 3:06 am,
Chapstick said…
You may consider yourself lucky.
Honestly, I don't think I can think of another Person who never heard their father swear that long. I have been listening to my father swear for as many years as I can remember, and rarely in jest. Not to say my father is mean of evil-tempered, just has a fondness for the vulgar.
At 1:51 pm,
Charby said…
Yeah, I agree with Chapstick, although my parents always did their best to control their language around me I grew up with them always swearing at each other and the world around them.
Probably explains why I use such foul language all the time.
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