Tell me one thing

Sometimes we’d turn the tv volume right down just to have a proper listen to the goings on next door.  You effing this, he’d be going to his boy.  You piece of that. Always effing and jeffing he was.

And Jan would tell me one thing: they’d be no more riots if more parents were like him. Well he’s certainly not an absent father, I’d say.  Bit too present in fact, she’d say. And we’d bite our hands with laughter until we cried, just to be sure he couldn’t hear us through the thin walls.

Oh yes, we were like that back then, Jan and me, just listening and laughing.  It seemed funny at the time I must say.  Less so now of course….


4 thoughts on “Tell me one thing

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