Memories

Up until about 11 when I left primary school and circumstances changed, the bath overrunning would be a regular occurrence. The bathroom led into my parents’ bedroom, and so if it overran everything touching the floor got wet. Socks that were midway through being paired were drenched in the deluge. The four of us children would be sat trying to cellotape the t.v. together so that it’d play past the first few minutes of The Little Mermaid, and suddenly we’d hear a call from the next room and charge through, armed with towels and sheets to mop up the water. Mops never seemed to cross our minds. The whole bedroom would be a swamp for the first ten minutes, after which it would feel spotless and smell of soap. I really liked clearing it all up, and then getting back to banging the side of the monster of a television we had. I always seemed to be the one who’d be trying to get that fixed, too.