So, next year we go to the polls
again. Does anybody else think it’s going to be less a General Election than a
messy divorce and custody hearing with us as the kids?
There’ll be the Conservatives on
one side; the Lib-Dems on the other, each hurling accusations and
recriminations as they try to convince us which has been the better parent for
the last five years. Then there’ll be Labour and UKIP, playing the part of the
concerned uncle who thinks it should be he
who gets custody because the other two have been such poor parents.
Won’t it be a far cry from the
beginning? Do you remember that; when the happy couple appeared in the Rose
Garden at 10 Downing Street just after the nuptials? It was like Charles and Di
on the balcony; like Cheryl and Ashley; Katie Price and Peter Andre. The sky
was blue, the birds were singing and love was everywhere. Even the in-laws
seemed to be getting along…almost. You had a feeling their smiles were painted
on, but this was no time for negativity; no time for sniping about whose arse
looks big in their dress, or whose immigration policy looked best on the gift
table. No; this was a time for optimism; it was a new beginning, and although
some of us did worry about Boris trying to get off with one of the bridesmaids,
we did dare to dream that maybe some good would come of this union.
Things went bad for us kids just
about straight away when we had to witness the wedding night in all its glory
as the Conservative groom administered a right good seeing-to to the blushing
Lib-Dem bride. Promises made to us before the wedding were thrown out like so
much snotty tissue.
Us: ‘…but mom told us there wouldn’t be any rise in tuition fees.’
Conservative dad: ‘Well I’m telling you that they are going up. In fact, I’m going to triple the fees.’
Us (To Lib-Dem mom): ‘But you promised…’
Lib-Dem mom: ‘I know, but it’s for the best. Really – it’s the best
thing for you. You’ll thank me for it in the long run.’
That was just the beginning.
Banky – dad’s favourite, lost all
the housekeeping money by gambling it all away. Ooh, at last, we thought. Banky’s
gonna to get it now. Dad’s really going to do him for that.
But Banky was dad’s favourite. So
dad’s idea to get us out of it was that he would take more board money from the
rest of us – who were only earning a fraction of what Banky did - while
providing less food and warmth. Of course, he would carry on giving vital
housekeeping money to friends and neighbours all over the place. As for Banky –
he would pay less board money, and get more food and warmth, and even get a
bonus every week for being such a great kid and because dad knew Banky was
going to take good care of him when he retired. Funny – mom was curiously
silent about all this.
Then the abuse started. Dad’s
funny-looking bald friend came around and kept calling us all lazy, and
scroungers, just because we couldn’t afford to keep ourselves with all the
board money we had to pay because of Banky. Then Dad said he was going to stop
buying stuff for the First Aid box. Instead, he said Banky and all of Dad’s
rich friends could provide all the separate items so they could make a bit of
extra money to furnish their country homes. Then, because Banky and dad’s rich
friends still didn’t have enough money, dad sold them our precious stamp
collection for a lot less than it was worth so they could then sell it and make
even more money.
Now, we’d been concerned about
lodgers for some time. We weren’t against taking in lodgers, but too many were
coming in and we were worried there wouldn’t be enough stuff to go around.
Before they got married, dad said he would stop so many lodgers coming in. But
this was another promise he broke. In fact, more and more of them came in, so
there wasn’t enough first aid, or school books or anything else to cope with
all those people.
So, dad’s funny-looking bald
friend came up with an idea, and dad made it happen. Those of us that were born
in this house, had lived in it all our lives and had paid board money, would
have to pay extra to keep our rooms to ourselves. If we didn’t pay that money,
then dad would make our rooms smaller to make space for all the lodgers.
All through the marriage, we
looked to mom, hoping she would keep dad in check, but she just sat there,
playing the obedient wife and never questioning dad. Then, when the marriage
started to fail, she sided with Uncle Ed so we wouldn’t have to pay so much to
keep our rooms to ourselves.
Now the marriage is coming to an
end, and at the court hearing next year we all have to choose which parent gets
custody of us. Suddenly dad and his friends are being nice to us; telling us
everything they did that we thought was so horrible was done to make us better
and stronger. Mom’s telling us that, although we didn’t know it, she was always
behind the scenes, making sure dad and his friends didn’t hurt us too much.
Then we have Uncle Ed, saying,
‘come and live with me. Things will be so much better. I don’t know what I’m
going to do to make it better, or how I’m going to do whatever it is. But it
will be better, honest. Go on – give me a go.’
Finally, there’s Uncle Nigel,
just come back from the pub. He says, ‘I’ll chuck all those lodgers out so we
can have the place to ourselves. I’ll stop giving our housekeeping money away
to other people, and I’ll stop letting other people tell us how to run our own
house. Come and live with me. It’ll be great fun, because unlike your dad, I
always buy my round.’
As yet, I don’t know which one
I’m going to pick. I wonder if one of the neighbours will have me…
