In 1961 Cliff Richard was already a household name...
...not in our house he wasn’t!
My mum had many fine qualities and attributes – a nurturing spirit, someone who I could always turn to and one of the few individuals I could rely on for loyalty and understanding.
The one thing she didn’t have was a sense of humour at times!
She couldn’t understand puerile pranks in particular; like the time I arrived home one Christmas Eve afternoon and shoved the biggest courgette imaginable through our letter box and shouted:
“Mum, mum, run for your life – the Martians are coming!”
She turned round to my father and merely said “What’s he going on about, Jim?”
Not even a smile...
Admittedly alcohol was involved in thinking up the practical joke in the first place. Why did I bother? The cost of a phallic proportioned courgette at that time of year was half a week’s wages, anyway.
But it was my mum’s dead-pan puzzled look on these occasions that was often the bigger laugh; she could be funny without realising it. That may seem insensitive towards her, it’s not meant to be. The truth is she wanted to join in – but she sometimes didn’t know how, especially if the joke was too silly for her to be bothered... I can't really blame her.
God give her Paradise...
...not in our house he wasn’t!
My mum had many fine qualities and attributes – a nurturing spirit, someone who I could always turn to and one of the few individuals I could rely on for loyalty and understanding.
The one thing she didn’t have was a sense of humour at times!
She couldn’t understand puerile pranks in particular; like the time I arrived home one Christmas Eve afternoon and shoved the biggest courgette imaginable through our letter box and shouted:
“Mum, mum, run for your life – the Martians are coming!”
She turned round to my father and merely said “What’s he going on about, Jim?”
Not even a smile...
Admittedly alcohol was involved in thinking up the practical joke in the first place. Why did I bother? The cost of a phallic proportioned courgette at that time of year was half a week’s wages, anyway.
But it was my mum’s dead-pan puzzled look on these occasions that was often the bigger laugh; she could be funny without realising it. That may seem insensitive towards her, it’s not meant to be. The truth is she wanted to join in – but she sometimes didn’t know how, especially if the joke was too silly for her to be bothered... I can't really blame her.God give her Paradise...
| Do book early for Christmas... |
The Artillery Arms
102 Bunhill Row
CITY of LONDON
EC1Y 8ND
Tel: 020 7253 4683
Fax: 020 7553 9019
Email: artilleryarms@fullers.co.uk

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