A shameless pearoast.....
My old mum and dad are sadly no longer with us, but this is one of my favourite stories involving them.

I used to live in a tenament flat in Edinburgh. A big solid looking building, but sadly the walls between flats could have done with an awful lot more insulation - especially between the bedrooms, if you get my drift.

My next door neighbour seemed a pleasant enough girl. I didn't see too much of her, but she always said hello on the stairs. However, she started seeing a guy who was a bit of a prick. He'd double park his car if he couldn't park within 5 yards (literally) of the front door, played loud music at all hours of the night, slammed the front door as he went in and out of the flat - you get the idea.

The loud humping, initially anyway, was slightly entertaining. Every night for a fortnight was getting a bit much - especially as he seemed to work shifts and 5:45am on a Tuesday morning seemed a popular time for making my lightshade swing - firing clouds of dust over my sadly unaccompanied form, whilst I was forced to listen to her taking a pummelling.

My mum and dad were coming up to see me one weekend. They were going to have my bed for the night, and I was going to kip on my living room floor.

I'm sure you can see where this is heading.

I hoped to Christ that she'd have the painters in that weekend, but I had to prepare for the worst.

Sunday morning arrived, and my mum came through to the living room.

[important point: my mum was always quite naive regarding 'downstairs' activity]

'Sleep ok mum?' I enquired.

'Not bad son, but I was woken up by a heck of a racket at one point.'

'Oh, really?', I enquired, cacking it slightly.

'Yes, I heard a baby crying really loudly, and lots of banging - like someone running up and down the stairs. I haven't a clue what was going on.'

At that point, my old man appears.

'Hi dad, sleep ok?' I ventured.

'Not really, that pair next door were at it like a pair of friggin rabbits all night. Does the girl ever sleep? She must walk like a cowboy.'

A mouthful of coffee squirted up my nose.

Mum didn't have a clue what he was on about. To the day she died, I don't think she ever twigged what the 'crying baby' noises really were.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 12 Feb 2010, 13:26, 1 reply)

coffee snort
New keyboard now, thanks.
(Mensa Reject has gone out, I'll be back on, Fri 12 Feb 2010, 18:05, closed)