Everyone with a lost childhood should read this.
My mother kept me on the straight and narrow and me auldfella did his best to set me astray. Mam was always my moral compass. Dad was … well I’m not sure he was but his morals were often a little sketchy despite his best intentions and I don’t think even my mother would have wanted me to follow his direction at times.
My da was a bit of a rogue. He was far too clever for the mundanity of his daily work and it showed in the stuff he got up to. I never truly got to know him the way a son should and that makes me a little sad. He died way too early, much like my mother and I think it’s often only later in life that one comes to appreciate one’s parents. He’d have never said “One” so he’s probably turning in his grave.
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