My Childhood Room

The Other Side

I had little that I could claim as 'mine. A few games, an old red box drop record player and my collection of Subbuteo, and a large pile of 'Shoot's magazine. ( A football comic that published glossy colour photographs of all the English and Scottish football teams. )

I would carefully cut out my favourite pictures and paste them on my half of our bedroom board. We were not allowed to stick, hang or decorate any of the other walls. Just the six foot by three foot board was the only space we had to express our own personalities on. When you are eight it is rare you question anything. The way it is, is the way it is. My young mind would be interested in things outside my room, but I never really felt that I was that important or special. It was uncommon for our parents paid any attention to the things of interested to my siblings or myself.

My father would make dismissive comments about 'football. I can remember his words even today. " Why would twenty two grown men want to chase a piece of leather around a field ?" He would continual. " As long as the eight score draws I have predicted on my Pools coupon come up I do not care about football." He had very little interest in sport, so why should anyone else be interested ? Looking back I can now see him for the person he was. For all of his achievements, intelligence and opinions he was narrow minded and according to him always right. Not a man to argue against. You have never known stubborn if you had never met him. I am sure he defined the word 'stubbornness' in the Oxford English Dictionary. Something else that I never questioned was birthdays. In our home birthdays were nothing that special.

The memories I have from my day of birth are few and far between. Firstly I would never look forward to mine. It was September 15, that very date was by timing an unfortunate time to be born. Just after the new school year started, so I was always one of the eldest children in my year group. My dislike of school was only matched by my dislike of some of the sadistic teachers, home work and of course school dinners. I suppose all of these built up to a dislike of having to conform. I was on such a tight leash at home, coping with school decline was difficult. After all it did not matter whether I achieved or failed my parents were far too busy trying to survive to notice. With my birthday came the new school term.

After six weeks of playing out, a sort of freedom. So I never wanted my birthday to come, because it signalled the end of the holidays, the beginning of school year, and the long dark winter nights were just around the corner. I have few birthday memories of my own. I can recall all the pranks and games that I played on my family or anyone who had the misfortune to cross my path. But only one birthday morning stands out clear enough for me to recount. It was going to be a lesson for me to remember. I was a nightmare of a child, my poor brother's and sister had put up with so much. Black face soap, hand buzzers, snappy chewing gum, mustard sweets. The list is endless. It was my turn now to be the victim. My brother Adrian was the brains, Ian and Amanda just wanted to be in on it. Imagine the scene, today is my ninth birthday.

I wake up as normal, Fred our cat has spent the night curled up at the bottom of my bed, he had just woken and had made his exit. There in front of me was my brother Adrian, sister Amanda and younger brother Ian all dressed and ready for breakfast. Adrian and Amanda had broad smiles on their faces, Ian was fat too young to comprehend what was just about to happen. Happy Birthday ! Surprise ! They shouted in unionism. It sure was ! We never celebrated birthdays. It was the last thing I had expected. From behind them Adrian produced with the help of the other two, a large brightly wrapped box. When I say large it was so big Ian disappeared behind it ! Still in my pyjamas. I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed excitedly. A birthday present, and something large ! By now my Mother was standing in the bedroom doorway, and my brothers and sister were surrounded in her shadow as they knelt, crouching like one hundred metre runners weight for the starting pistol. I had the outside wrapping off in a second, only to discover another box inside the first box. The same again, and again until I was buried in a heap of newspapers and ever decreasing sizes of boxes. Finely the last box, a shoe box, wrapped in coloured birthday paper stuffed with newspaper. Throwing the scrunch up paper left and right, as my mood become darker and darker, and there right at the bottom of the last box my present. One single Black Jack chewie sweet. Ten black Jacks cost about a penny. My initial excitement at seeing the large present was now anger. I was besides myself. Upset, disappointed and non believing what had just happen.

My Mother and three siblings were now laughing and pointing. This was the most humiliating moment of my young life. No doubt done to teach me a lesson for all the ticks and jokes and times that I had humiliated each one of them. A valuable lesson indeed. Not nice being the victim. Nor easy to know how disliked I was by my brother's and sister, even my Mother, who seemed to gain an immense about of pleasure at my expense. It would be a while before I gained my revenge for that moment.