rupert bear
my mother decided that from an early age, me and Weazal (my twin brother) wouldn't be having birthday parties at home but cultural trips out to celebrate our desprogging (basically we lived on a council estate, and my mum had airs and didn't want the kiddie scum we associated with to muck up her house, this was proved correct in her mind when a summer playscheme she helped set up, got her to "host" a party for the under 10 group and one of the kids brought his big brother's copy of "frigging in the rigging", I have never seen her moving so fast, out of the kitchen to get to the record player)
Anyway, "Rupert the Bear and the magic something or other" was playing the Theatre Royal in Norwich and she deemed this a suitable birthday outing for her darling offspring.
We enjoyed it from what I can remember (I was only 5) and then went to have afternoon tea at her friend Vicky's shop round the corner. Vicky was looking after her parents's jack russell terrier, so me and Weazal and a large bag of doggie choc drops were despatched to the back room to play with the dog, so they could chat. Weazal quickly discover the little dog would jump quite high for choc drops and then held one in front of my face and which point I discover a small dog hanging from one of my nostils.
Blood from me, followed by screaming from me, Weazal, my mum and Vicky, followed by quick trip to A&E and a mild phobic reaction to small yapping dogs for several years.
(Also, as this was not the only scrap Weazal had been responsible for getting me into, a slight worrying feeling he was really quite miffed about not being an only child)
( Not just a hatstand inflamed in the membrane inflamed in the brain, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 20:53, Reply)