White Cat Wet Shoes

I've just been thinking of my earliest memories although they are rather sketchy.

I was out with my Mum, and she was talking to some one and not taking much notice of me ( something not unusual as I get to know later in life).

I was around two and in a panic, desperate for a wee. Mum didn't come up for breath as she chattered away, so I tugged and tugged at her coat only to be met with a stranger's face waring what to me was the same coat! Standing there crying with wet shoes, I was held out at arms length and given to my Mum who had moved on a little to talk to some one else.

Been forgotten is something that happened more than once. My Dad the most lovable and gentlest of men, but had a reputation of being some what forgetful. I had been left out side the post office in my pram. While at home, Dad was sitting tea in one hand biscuit in the other, slowly at first dawning on him, he had left me:). Grandad also had to bring me home a couple of times after Dad had call to see his parents, while taking me for a walk around the village and yes he left me their too.

Once while going on holiday by train, (I think was to mablethorpe? (it had a station there then), Thankfully this time my sister and myself got on the train with our mum, more than can be said for our luggage! He had however, remembered the bag with the flask and sandwiches in. Dad always enjoyed a cup of tea and a cigarette, and on any journey he'd pour out a drink, opened the sandwiches and lit a cig almost before the train had time to leave the station, bless him.

My second memory, would be around my 3rd birthday. Mum yelling Dad was trying to quieten her down ( not easy mum has always had a temper). A scrawny, scruffy flea ridden white cat had tried to run off with the Sunday chicken and was cornered in the kitchen. Mum was set on hitting it with a sauce pan, dad stopping her, saying it wouldn't have come into a strange house unless it was starving. And that is how we ended up with a white cat called Charlie.

The cat was as deaf as deaf could be apparently not unusual for white cats. At his feeding time we had to tap him and show him his dish, as far as I know it never stole anything else off the table . He was also a soppy old thing, I spent many a happy hour pushing him around in my pram and covering him in a blanket.