When my eldest Son Jonathan, was young his Saturday mornings were not as he should have had. We lived, and still do, in a rather large house by the Sea – the North Sea – and the Boys, I have two Sons all grown up now, well they had plenty space to run around in.
Yet saying that, my Mother and spinster Sister came to live with us, very long complicated story – for another day perhaps. My Mother from the day she entered the House liked to believe that she was “still in charge”, even though I was in my Thirties, married and two young Boys to bring up she still knew it all. She also liked to cause “trouble”, even though that would be denied and that in itself caused problems, she was never happier than when she had caused an argument between my late Husband David and myself.
Saturday mornings, David would tell the Boys, when they would get up so early and head downstairs and put the tv on and play their games or watch tv, that Mummy was having a lay in and not to make too much noise. David would leave the Sitting room curtains for me to draw as they were awkward and I always told my Mother not to touch them. But every Saturday morning, my Mother would go into our Sitting Room and go to pull the curtains, Jonathan would tell her not to do it as “Mummy said she will do them” but my Mother would ignore him and Jonathan would persist and my Mother would raise her voice and in would go David and Jonathan would say what I had said about ther curtains, David would have a go at Jonathan, and end up giving him a slap, Jonathan would then run up to his room or me, and being hot tempered (Irish blood) I would go down and then the row between David and myself and my Mother would be delighted, off she would go. As for young David he would carry on with his games.
Poor Jonathan, it was not his fault. Once I had done all the washing, Jonathan and myself would set about making Pies and Cakes, he would have his stool and help me or even make his own biscuits, at least to this day this is a happy memory for him. I always longed for David to play like a Father does with his Children, saying that is a bit rich coming from me, my own Father never once played with me. I have absolutely no memories of my Father as much as reading a book to me, or my Mother. My Mother was always too busy cleaning. David at least did read to the Boys every night but, unfortunately, Jonathan grew up seeing how David preferred his youngest Son, called David after himself and his own Father. I always told Jonathan how Daddy loved them both, but the child knew from an early age. Now we have no pretense and Jonathan has had his own problems, stemming I believe from his Father’s feelings towards him, also that Jonathan was bullied dreadfully for having a much older Father when he was at School, this I never knew about until some years ago. For all of this the blame should, must be laid at my door I put these Children in this situation. I shoulds not have Married someone that much older, I should not have married someone who did not love or even want me – one always finds out too late. Poor Jonathan should have had happy Childhood memories of Saturday mornings, instead he has the above.