Memories of my childhood. [Sorry Mum & Dad].

My parents don’t even try to hide the fact I was a Damien child. They don’t need to, the proofs in the pudding; my brother is ten years younger than me. Now whilst I’d like to think it’s because Janice turned down the romantic advances of young Michael – I know it’s a different story.

So, why was I such a horror child?

* “Pick, pick” was my favourite word. I wouldn’t walk anywhere. Always had to be carried on dad’s shoulder.
* I wouldn’t stay overnight anywhere, or with anyone who wasn’t mum or dad. Even when they tried to offload me I would end up with whatever friend or family member I was staying with at their wits end before giving in and calling them to return from their date and pick me up. No wonder there was a ten year gap.
* I was scared of Worzel Gummage but insisted on watching it from the hallway.
* I watched Annie and Sound of Music on repeat; every day for about a year. The sun was not coming out tomorrow for mum and dad. Thank god the video cassette finally wore out.
* I demanded a karaoke machine for my birthday and warbled out Michael Jackson’s Heal the World to anyone that would listen…
….and later on I recorded the Radio One Top 40 and play/paused until I knew every single word to the Honeyz songs off by heart.
* I’ll never forget asking mum what “having a wank” meant.
* And spraying myself head to toe in Body Shop White Musk when the older kids smoked on the school bus.
* Dragging them round the village for hours on end looking for my Take That wallet that I had dropped, and couldn’t sleep without. Never did find that yellow, purple and red velcro’d beauty.
* Making them rescue a three legged duck which we kept in our garden for 73 days before setting him free. I still remember the heartache of saying goodbye to Dylan Duck.
* Snogging my Mark Owen poster from Fast Forward. Snogged it so much the mouth wore away. He was wearing his “Junkie’s Baddy Powder” top in that photo. It was a sign of things to come for that floppy headed beauty.
* Speaking of which, I was completely inconsolable when the band split up first time round.
* Not as bad as when my parents sent me a Valentines card from my absolute idol Macaulay Culkin, I took it to school to show it off until some smart Alec pointed out that the name was spelt wrong. I cried.
* I dragged them to the cinema to watch My Girl and on exit, dad’s face looked like a slab of corn beef with very leaky eyes….. “Thomas J, he can’t see without his glasses“.
* And I even dragged Mick to horse riding lessons with me. Now I think of it, maybe that was the real reason it took so long to conceive child 2. #BatteredBallbag
* I asked Santa for a brother or sister. Every. Damn. Year.
* And when he arrived I hated him as suddenly the whole world revolved around him.
* And in later years, they left me home alone for one night. I didn’t throw a booze and alcohol fuelled party, oh no I just decided to paint all the garden furniture and paving slabs metallic silver. Definitely got a clip round the ear ‘ole for that one.
* The second time, I wrote off mum’s car.
* Then there was the chemical spraying into colleague eyes at my supermarket job resulting in hospital visits.
* And I won’t even go into the money troubles later on down the line.
 

So, what I’m really trying to say is I’m sorry Mum and Dad – I’m sure your premature greying is a result of creating such a strange child. I’d like to say I hope Sofia gets her personality from her dad, but his childhood stories are definitely best kept under wraps.