Me at One and a Banksy
Favourite Son
It was one of those hot lazy summer days where the heat rose in
shimming waves from the pavement.
At the time these shimmering days seemed to last forever, and the laughter of children filled the air, to compete with noise of the bees, birds and
butterfly’s as they fluttered and buzzed in the sky.
It was the sound of joyous life, where the insects and birds added to this summer soundtrack.
I'm five and enjoying my first summer holiday from school.
Down by the shopping centre was an enclosed car park, these garages were set in a dip, and the surrounding land was made into a grassy slope.
Without snow and it being the height of summer the pleasure of sledging was
made possible on grass with the aid of a torn piece of cardboard boxes.
Well that's what the sensible kids used like me; my twin however decided his
short trousers could provide adequate slipperiness to this fun activity.
As the days pass the grass was quickly worn to dry stoney soil,
where the sliding kids were followed by the lifting dust cloud, and it's here
someone was about to lose the back of his trousers.
Well as you’ve no doubt guest that someone was my twin Michael who was
blissfully unaware the entire back of his trousers was replaced by the sight of
his soiled pants… soiled with soil thankfully.
Well he soon became aware due to the friction burn on his backside, and No
Mother is kissing that better you idiot!
So it was a few days after this I was presented with these Holey
Shorts…. I say holey but not in the saintly you now have the power of Gods in
your pants kind of way. (which would have been cool as the parting clouds
allowed a golden light to shine on my blessed trousers, to the sounds of
singing angels)
In fact there was literally no material on the rear of these trousers at all.
This is when you realise you’re in no way the favourite son, heck! You're not
even the second favourite, but luckily there isn't a third to make you the
fourth, so I figured the least Favourite son was up for grabs so I took it with
both hands... Yea in your face Family, I'm here whether you like it or not.
“What?....Why do I have to wear those? I never did that!”
“Michael is going to your grandmothers, with Steven and Loraine so you have to
stay here!... he can’t go out wearing those.”
“But he’s wearing MY Trousers!...... MINE!”
“Well you’re not going out so you have to have these.”
“But I want to go out!”
“Well you can’t in these, so quit you’re moaning and put them on.”
“FINE!"
there's no use arguing with these giant parent types. So I just busy myself
with my constant companion, my trusty scratch book.
So there I was condemned to stay home, until my friend from the
bungalows, near to our home called. (These were what we thought at the time as
Posh kids, as their parents owned their own home.)
So my posh friend asks, “Are you coming out to play?”
It took me a nanosecond to consider the consequences of being seen with my
backside hanging out of my shorts to say, “Yes.”
And out I go, and soon we are opening the gate to his driveway to walk round
his home into his family’s rear garden.
All this time I’m conscious of keeping by backside out of view, and all gardens
at this time had a coal bunker, a concrete rectangular box, that sat about 4
feet high.
So jumping up I sat myself down on it…. Now satisfied my hide was hidden.
“Lemonade?”
“OHHHHHH yes please.” (Posh kids had the greatest mothers) I say to the smiling
face of my friend’s mother.
Brilliant! And my friend asks, “Can we have cake too mum?”
“Of course, I’ll bring it out to you.”
What can I say…. Cake and lemonade! I was in the garden of heaven.
The garden was well kept, with roses and other flowers in full bloom, and that
lovely familiar buzz filled my ears, and I felt truly happy.
We joked around, playing word games and such then his sister joined us, she was
beautiful with blonde hair that shone like corn.
We were laughing away and eating cake when suddenly…. As most things that
happen when you’re least expecting them… I was stung by something in my throat…
This was like Och! But much more painful.
I was starting to get hot and my throat felt tight, so with one hand
to my throat I jump off the coal bunker, then the concerned face of my friends
sister changes to confusion as she sees my backside hanging out of my trousers,
and I can see she’s wondering if I ripped them as I jumped.
Her mother runs to me saying, “Oh My Goodness! Are you alright? Did you rip
your trousers?”
I’m feeling giddy and say….. “Bluuuuuuh.”
“Mum he’s been stung by a bee!” My friend says
“Oh NO!.... we must get you home.” And she plucks me from the ground like I was
a feather and runs with me in her arms to the rear of my home… with my head
back all I see is sky, and I remember thinking 'wow that's really blue.'
My friend was soon banging the door like the klappers, and it's soon answered
by my mother.
“He’s been stung by a Bee! And he’s ripped his trousers jumping from our coal
bunker the poor boy.”
I’m rushed in and sat on a chair where I wobble, feeling sick and dizzy.
“I’m terribly sorry I hope he’s alright?”
“I’ll fetch him some water, he’ll be fine.” My mother concludes, “Thank you for
bringing him back.”
“Is he going to Die MUM?”
Am I going to die? I’m thinking as my throat tightens even more.
“No! He’ll be fine.” My friend’s mother reassures him and me at the same time.
When all the fuss dies down and I’m alone in the kitchen with my
mother she says, “I told you to stay indoors, this wouldn’t have happened if
you listened.”
I was finding it hard to talk, I was slightly scared bee poison might be the
end of me, but I manage to say…. “I didn’t want to stay in mum.” but in my head
I'm saying shouldn't you be feeling guilty? if I wasn't attempting to hide my
Hide I may have been standing and running about like a normal kid... Bees would
have looked and thought, 'Na, he's moving to fast to be a flower, curse you boy
with sweet cake.'
“Well we can’t go to the Doctor’s, not with you dressed like
that so drink this water and rest.”
She looked worried which worried me, she would never give me
trousers with holes in again, that was for sure, so in that way I won a small
victory for my freedom.
After a while my swollen throat did die down and when my siblings returned home
I was able to tell them how I escaped the icy hands of death armed with a holey
pair of trousers and true grit….and my Twins a git! I added, which is
apparently a rude thing to say, but true.
