The girls at school used to be very spiteful and cruel. They would call you horrible names, and make gossip about you, and your family, I got called nit head because I came to school with head lice one day, the funny thing was I got the head lice of the girl I sat next to in class, her family was riddled with them. Mind you all kids call each other, and all kids can be cruel, I am no exception, I was horrid with my name calling, I could come out with some right bolters. And make the girls cry. A bit of a little monster me. But I did have my charming ways.
Just getting back to my mother again, I did notice she had a favourite out of the eight children she had, it was my older brother, and I did wonder why he got most of the attention, I suppose I was a bit jealous of him, but I was more curious to know why really, I was a bright lad but very quiet and shy, when I was young, I used hide behind the furniture when we had visitors, or dive behind the door so I would not be noticed when my friends called round, my family teased me about this all the time and thought I was a bit odd.
I just remember being very shy and embarrassed about my hair style, and my flared trousers and woolly jumpers. I hated my hair; it was very fine and cut from a cereal bowl that was placed on my head when cut by my mother. My clothes was hand me downs from my older brothers. I looked like a right raga muffin.
I shudder now thinking about it. I was skinny as well. A right bean pole my sister used to say to me. I really had a complex about my self and spent too much time thinking about it.
I needed my mother at that time but I could not get close to her for some reason.
My mother was a very intelligent woman, she had all these wise sayings I remember. The neighbours used to come round to talk to her and get advice from her, we always had people company at our house, a lot of friends my mother had back then, mostly the people from the street, we all went to their houses as well, there was this real community spirit, all the neighbours helped each other and took turns looking after each others kids.
But I never felt needed by any of them. I really did feel in the way all the time, I ran away from home a lot, but was always brought back by the police the next day or two. This stopped when I got to sixteen, as I knew I did not have to run away no more, I could just leave on my own accord. Actually I did just that at sixteen I got a flat and a job on a building site as a labourer.
My mother would try her best to install good manners into us, she used to say never ask from any body or take from any one and always say please and thank you when given sweets or toys. We did our best to oblige but failed pathetically. As my sisters would always ask for things from everybody, and say “bloody hell is that all you got”
The girl next door that I liked would come round to see if I was coming out to play, the first thing she would ask for is if I got any sweets or money, when I said no she cleared of with other boys.
I am not writing this book because I have had bad experiences with woman, I know it reads like that but honestly I am above that. This book is intentionally to give men a better insight to woman, and to give woman an equal opportunity they deserve when they think they are made out of all things nice and candy and spice, and we men are made of puppy dogs tails and slugs and snails. That’s not fair is it?
