Dear Aunty Betty
Well, Christmas has come and gone, but this year, let me tell you, has been a real cracker.
Yet again Aunty Betty, it has been ruined by the ungratefulness of our eight-year-old son (Tarquin) who has no consideration for the efforts and planning that goes into making this one day of the year special.
Like every year, we awoke before sunrise and followed our son downstairs witnessing the chaos and excitement associated with the ripping of Christmas paper. We also smiled with merriment at his enthusiastic cheers whilst opening his excessive amount of presents stashed under the Christmas tree.
Then, within a blink of an eye everything changed.
“You never listen” he screamed, looking directly at his mother and I.
“I wanted roller blades” he shouted throwing his present on to the floor.
Whilst my wife and I stood there in shock having observed his little outburst, our precious Tarquin stormed off upstairs screaming “I asked for rollerblades”.
Well, Aunty Betty, to be fair, he may have a point. Whilst out Christmas shopping my wife and I did wonder why an eight-year-old would want a set of roller blinds.
Aunty Betty says…
I know just what you mean about the youth of today. They are not grateful for anything these days and expect more and more as each year passes by.
I remember in my youthful days we always got the same old shite.
I can recall it now; a piece of coal, an orange, an apple and half a crown. Believe me, we were so grateful for these little tokens way back then as we were so poor.
However, on boxing day the coal was thrown on the fire, I discovered I was allergic to oranges (and spent the following two days in hospital) and the apple was re-possessed by the greengrocer who came knocking at the door. And yes, you guessed it, the greengrocer took the half crown to cover the outstanding bills.
Our house was often bombed during the war years and we often spent the winter nights in the Anderson Shelter with a draft blowing up my gingham skirt.
Oooh but those were the good old days.
Lots of love