Windows...
Windows 1.

In our house, the upstairs windows swung outwards door-fashion. In the interests of ‘safety’, because my dad didn’t want to take the chance of us ‘tumbling out’ (I don’t know either – call it ‘dad logic’)…….

HE COCKING WELL NAILED THEM ALL SHUT!

WTFFFF?

Windows 2

Come what may, however many times we got away with it during the week, Sunday night was bath night (We were a trampy lot then). My dad would chuck brotherflake and me into the bath together when we were little. We hated getting in, but then hated getting out after our wash. We liked to skid around the wet sides of the bath, which considering our size at the time seemed like the Cresta Run.

Dad: “Come on lads, get out of the bath now”

Us: “Naaaaaahh, Whoosh etc etc”

Dad: “Get out of the bath NOW, you pair of scrotes, or I’ll tan your arses”

Us: “Whoooosh, Weeeee (The sound, that is, not actual weeing)” etc

A couple of minutes passed. Then suddenly on the bathroom window:

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!!

Jesus McFuckybuckets! Brotherflake and I promptly shit ourselves, leap 6 feet into the air and tank it bollock-nekked downstairs so fast I’m surprised flames didn’t follow behind us a la roadrunner / back to the future etc.

My dad was sitting calmly in his lounge chair.

Us (collectively, between Sobs): “DAD, DAD, HEEEELLLPP” – Somebody or something was banging on the bathroom window – the baddies are trying to get in (we were very, very young remember)….HEEYYUULLP”


Dad: “Got you out of the bath though didn’t it?, you couple of cock-itches”

Us: “Mmmmf?”

It appears that as soon as we had crossed my dad’s ‘pissed off’ threshold, he went downstairs and outside into the dark night, grabbed an extended clothes line prop and repeatedly banged on the bathroom window, thus traumatising and mentally scarring us both for life, just to get us out of the bath.

I really shouldn’t wonder why I’m now so fucked up.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 16 Aug 2007, 13:01, Reply)