Product Description
A faux memoir written as a collection of short stories that link together to tell the story of a boy growing up in the 1950's/60's
Born into a typical working class family that already had two girls, one two years older than him and the other one year older, making him the only boy.
Being brought up with two girls for ten years must have left its mark on him, for it seems to him and me at the time that he was always the one to get picked on whenever anything bad happened.
His dad had a piece of pit belting, not a belt to hold up his trousers, a piece of conveyor belt about two inches wide and two feet long that he used to smack their backsides with, well his at least. I mean, I never recall his sisters being smacked and anyway he was always told that in his family ‘Males do not hit females' So his sister’s probably ended up with slapped legs and he was the one who got the belt on his backside and when his dad said "I'll leather thy arse till tha can't sit darn for a week" he meant it. The poor lad couldn't sit down for a fortnight never mind a week.
Born into a typical working class family that already had two girls, one two years older than him and the other one year older, making him the only boy.
Being brought up with two girls for ten years must have left its mark on him, for it seems to him and me at the time that he was always the one to get picked on whenever anything bad happened.
His dad had a piece of pit belting, not a belt to hold up his trousers, a piece of conveyor belt about two inches wide and two feet long that he used to smack their backsides with, well his at least. I mean, I never recall his sisters being smacked and anyway he was always told that in his family ‘Males do not hit females' So his sister’s probably ended up with slapped legs and he was the one who got the belt on his backside and when his dad said "I'll leather thy arse till tha can't sit darn for a week" he meant it. The poor lad couldn't sit down for a fortnight never mind a week.
