3/20
There were no more bath time incidents after this and it wasn’t long before I started school. That was in 1974. By 1975 I had been told off by Mrs Cellars for pulling down my trousers and showing Mary Smith my circumcised dinky-dido. Mary incidentally, went on to become a very successful optician, so in retrospect I think the ticking off was a little harsh.
I wouldn’t want you to stop reading here thinking that this autobiography is full of toilet stories and genitalia related tales, so I’m pleased to report that the rest of my primary school days went by fairly quietly. There were some obvious highpoints like the long hot summer of 76 when Craig Adam broke his nose and got a Rolo from the dinner lady to placate his pain. I became very jealous at that and wanted a Rolo for myself. I considered banging my head on a brick wall in an effort to receive one, but was stopped in my tracks by the realisation that the Rolo given to Craig was the last of the pack. In fact, I survived a further 22 years before I broke any bone in my body. When I did, it was a shoulder blade, cracked when falling from a skateboard whilst hurtling down a disused runway wearing only a pair of shorts and one flip-flop.
Around the time of the broken nose incident I gained an intense dislike for my local Co-op and started The Anti Co-op Society. I had about five fellow members and we all made a solemn vow to hold our breaths everytime we walked past the evil shop. I took my aversion a stage further and would cry loudly if I found out my mother had been shopping in that retail temple to my discord.
