The Expensive Price of Being Proud.

Inspired by True Events.

"We can meet up at my house at, let's say 8am tommorow and we can leave from there" Rhubarb said to the four of us.

A group of us were going on a shopping trip to London. Me and Rhubarb had been asked to be brides maids at our friends wedding so we were going dress shopping. The rest were tagging along for the ride and to help us choose.

Morning came and everyone, as asked, reached Rhubarb's house for approxiamtely 8.30am, (yes, I know she said 8am). We had breakfast, even though Rhubarb was moaning, and jammed into the car and were on our way by 9.30am.

Our Journey took a couple of hours and on reaching London, we parked up and started the shopping spree. We were buzzing as we went from shop to shop looking for the perfect outfit to wear to the wedding. Each dress we looked at either I did not like and if I liked it then Rhubarb would find something wrong with it.

After having searched several shops we at last saw a dress that caught both our attention.

"Excellent choice madam, the colour suits you perfectly" the shop assistant said to Rhubarb in a snooty manner.

Rhubarb looked at me and pleaded "I love this dress, what about you?"

"Yeh, it looks gorgeous, I honestly think we will out do the bride" I laughed looking at the bride. "How much is it?"

"Oh!" the assistant remarked loudly "I don't think we have a size 12/16 in this dress. Maybe you would care to look at another outfit?" The shop was quite busy and not only did Rhubarb look at me but others who had overheard started to whisper and giggle.

Now, it wasn't so much what she said but the way she said it that made me do what I did.

"Uh! actually, this is my size" I said looking at the tag.

"Oh, size 8/10, are you sure" she grinned.

"Umm, we could look at something else, what about that blue one." Rhubarb said trying to change the subject.

"No, I like this one and I would like to buy it along with my sister's."

"Are you sure? They cost £95.99; and if it doesn't fit." Rhubarb said in sheer panic.

"Maybe you would like to try it on first? The changing rooms are over there?" The assistant grinned. "I mean your sister is right."

"Yeh, try it on and if it fits then buy it."

"Well it will fit because that is my size but only to please you I will try it on." I said grabbing the dress and walking off in a huff towards the changing rooms.

Before entering the changing room I turned around only to see the assistant, Rhubarb, my friends and a few other shoppers looking at me, waiting patiently to see whether the dress would fit.

In the doored cubicle, you had a couple of pegs on one side, a full length mirror infront and a little seat on the other wall. I took off my top and took the dress off the hanger and quitely mumbling to myself "please fit, please fit, please don't let me die and burn out there with embarrasment", I reached my arms straight above my head and started slipping the dress down.



I could have died, it got stuck around my shoulders, I pulled gently on the dress hoping, praying, crying internally, but with no luck it just would not go any further than my shoulders. I was panicked now thinking everyone would just laugh because I had made such a fuss. I put the dress back on the hanger, got dressed and left the cubicle.


I walked out holding my head high, placing the dress graciously on the counter and I looked at Rhubarb, grinned then looked at the assistant behind the counter and said.

"See, I told you it would fit."

Walking out of the shop with my new dress in hand for which I paid approx £100. I looked at Rhubarb and said remorsefully "I don't think I should have had breakfast today."

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The Faint Bypass

Inspired by true events.
My beloved father, may you always be in our hearts and prayers.

Sibling embarrasment happens to the best of us. Have you ever sat in your French class only to look up and see everyone staring out the window which overlooks the playground and laughing at some wild child running across the playground screaming a bee has stung her. Then suddenly it dawns on you that it's your own sister humiliating herself. Or when you're talking to a mother at the day care centre for your child when your sister interupts saying 'your daughter is so cute' to the mother. Only to find out it's a boy. Does that stop her? "No that one over there, the girl in the jeans and t-shirt". Again, yes that's a boy!

"After several hours in surgery, your father did not have any complications and I am glad to say it was a successful surgery" the doctor told us when the surgery was complete. "He is in the ICU and we will keep him there today just to keep an eye on his vitals and make sure he is fully conscious by tonight."

We had been there for several hours now, waiting with mum who every now and then would burst into tears. All us brothers and sisters were quiet throughout as we really did not know what to say or do, other than wait patiently. We all sighed with relief when the doctor had given us the news that the operation was over.

"When can we see him?" mum asked the doctor.

"He is still unconscious at the moment but you can go in for a short time, two at a time only as not to crowd him". He said and left the waiting room leaving us fighting for which two will go in first.

Mum had taken the youngest with her first and we had planned it out so that I would go with my younger brother, my two sisters would go together and my other brother and sister will partner up for their turn. We had moved from the waiting room to the seats outside the intensive care unit and as everyone was not their usual chatty selves, for obvious reasons, we all just sat quietly waiting our turn. Everytime the doors would open all of us would pop our heads round to catch a quick glance at our dad, who lucky for us was parked right opposite the doors, so we could see him lying there.

My two older sisters had seen him after mum and they had come out crying and really distressed. I think the nurses must have kicked them out for crying as they were not gone that long.

Me and my brother would be last to go in, so now it was my other brother and sister's turn to speak to dad. They entered the unit and again we watched as the doors closed......

When they approached my dad, my brother (the one from 'Spinach is Greener')sat on the only chair on one side of the bed and my sister (Rosie from 'Another surprise party')stood on the other.

There were three thick tubes going into my dad from just under the belly button and blood marks on the bed sheet that covered his bottom half of the body. The air was thick with the rusty odour of blood, making it very difficult to concentrate. A transparent tube was also coming out of dad's mouth which looked slightly painful. Drips hanging up next to the bed with monitors logged on by his side. The bag holding the fluid from his kidneys was attached to the sidepanel of the bed making the whole scene quite depressing. Other beds had patients recovering in the unit and as you can imagine the atmosphere was quite bleak.

My brother started talking really quietly to my dad and took a hold of his hand and was getting quite emotional. Rosie on the other hand was unable to control her uneasiness and whispered to my brother, "hey John, I feel really queezy and lightheaded."

My brother, who is certainly not the most sensitive of us, replied "Just relax we will go in abit, don't you dare make a scene."

"But I really think I should sit down" she carried on.

"Ok, ok you can sit here and I will stand" John said still sitting holding dad's hand.

"John, I feel really faint" Rosie continued.

"You will get us kicked out, just wait a bit longer." John was starting to get up now.

All of a sudden Rosie fell to the floor making a thud. John quickly panicked and ran round to her hoping the nurses had not seen for fear that he would get kicked out and no one else would be allowed to see my dad. So, he did what any brother would do in that situation (or so you'd think)......

As someone entered the IC unit, all we could see from outside was Rosie on the floor with her eyes closed and John dragging her along the floor by her left leg and signalling to me to come in quickly as it was now my turn to visit.

___________________________________________________________________________

Are you Scared?

Inspired by true events.
(dtmd)

Sharing a bedroom with your siblings can always have it's ups and downs. Having invisible substance ball fights or staying up all night chatting about absolutely anything was always good. Playing monopoly and never winning because your sister hates to lose. Yes, even the losing was fun.

Sometimes though, it would be a right pain. Having your sister rummage through all your private stuff and reading your diary and then poking fun at you every chance they got. Or having your sister keep her side of the room messy while you're trying to keep your cleaning OCD under control. Well, my sister thought so anyway.

"I can't stand living in the same room as you any longer" my sister cried. "You go through all my stuff and I have got no privacy."

In our three bedroom house, my parents had one room, my oldest sister (Sarah) had one room and all the other siblings had the last room. So, as you can imagine privacy was a massive issue. My sister (Rhubarb)was having it no more, after sharing a bedroom all her life she had just made a deal with Sarah that would relieve her from ever having to share with anyone.

"See you sucka" Rhubarb said gleefully, "I have given Sarah my new black dress for her bedroom, so I am out of here" she said while pulling down her posters carefully as not to rip them.

"Huh! Sarah swapped her bedroom for a dress? Thats not fair" I said in astonishment.

"Yes and she is packing her stuff to move, ha, see how you get my diary now."

I was shocked. I had always shared with Rhubarb and it would feel weird without her but I wasn't worried. "Don't pull all your posters off yet because you'll be back" I laughed.

There was one thing about Rhubarb you need to know. She gets spooked very easily. She was always the first to go to sleep not because she was tired but because she didn't want to be awake while everyone else was sleeping. On many an occasion did she wake me up if she woke in the night just to keep her company, so I was not worried.

The moving was complete and as I sat on her bed in the new room I sensed a chill down my spine with an immense feeling of anxiety. I told Rhubarb what I felt.

"Oh please, you are just saying that to scare me" she said "but I am not moving from this room."

That night everyone had taken positions in thier new habitats and lay down to sleep. The lights went off, with the exception of the hall light which was left on just to take the edge off the darkness for the children.

About half an hour into the sleep we heard screaming. "AAAHHHHH! Mum there is someone trying to get in!" Rhubarb was shouting from inside her locked room.

We all went running to her door, "Open the door!" mother yelled.

"I can't move off my bed" Rhubarb cried, "Someone was turning the knob."

"Open the door, It's me turning the knob!" again mum said.

"No, before you came" she cried.

"Who is in there?" my dad shouted. "What are you screaming for?"

Rhubarb was quiet. The children were standing on the landing watching the locked door fearfully. Dad was trying to turn the knob and pushing the door. Rhubarb was still quite. Dad was banging at the door and mum was shouting "Rhubarb open the door." The door opened.

"Uh, I'm ok, I thought there was someone turning the knob but I must have been wrong." Rhubarb said in a quite voice. "I'm ok go back to bed." So after reassuring and checking her room we all went back to bed. The next day everyone was laughing at Rhubarb but all she could say was there was someone there.

Come nightfall everyone got ready for bed. This time Rhubarb was prepared she took a kitchen knife with her and placed it under her pillow ready for any assailant in the dark.

Again when we all lay down about an hour or so into the sleep Rhubarb started screaming. "AAAHHHH! there is some one turning the knob, someone is trying to get into my room."

This time only mother and me ran to the door. "Open the door" mum shouted angrily but Rhubarb woudn't stop screaming. This made mum really angry and she started shouting louder "open this door, just get off your bed and open the door or even the light." Everything was quiet. Rhubarb again opened the door. This time mum was angry and wasn't listening to reason so she made Rhubarb go back to the old bedroom; waking Sarah to go back to hers.

"Tommorrow you can move your stuff back" I said laughing at Rhubarb, who was still recovering from the incident. We lay down to sleep saying good night to each other and Rhubarb seemed happier to be back.

I sighed in relief thinking everything is back to normal again, all is right in the world and I won't have to creep about in the dark anymore.....

Another Surprise Party

Inspired by true events.

As you may have gathered by my previous stories, I have quite a few sisters and two brothers. Like any other household all my siblings have different personas compared to each other. The sensitive child, the stuborn child, the joker, the intellect, the rich one, the leader and of course the one to mock. Here's looking at you.

"So, here's the plan" my sister said in a very mature tone. "We will get Rosie (our younger sister) to go into the Kitchen where the cake will be waiting and all she will have to do is light the candles." Holding the candle ridden cake near my face she continued "There will be a box of matches next to the cake and once she has lit all 16 candles she will carry the cake into the tv room where we shall start singing 'happy birthday'. Got it!" She put the cake on the kitchen table and started rooting around a draw for the matches.

"We should give her a code word just so she knows when to bring in the cake" I said getting into the party spirit. "We just have to make sure Daisy does not go into the kitchen before our surprise, otherwise it will all be ruined".

It was Daisy's Birthday and as normal she would come over to watch movies and play monopoly with us. We loved our late parties which virtually lasted all night and as she did not expect us to throw her a party she would be delighted at the gesture. We had brought a little cake using our pocket money with enough left over for other junk food, which we purchased. We had organised an itinery to exact out our plan and at 8.15pm Rosie would go into the kitchen for a glass of water (or so she will tell us) and then light the 16 candles and wait for one of us to shout out "get me some water Rosie". To this she will enter the tv room, cake in hand and we shall all start singing. Easy, or so you think.

When Daisy arrived we all sat around, chilling and watching a movie which I think was 'Beaches', so as you can imagine we were half asleep by the time Rosie got up to go to the kitchen.

"I'm just getting a glass of water" she said as planned.

We all just sat there pretending not to hear her then after about five minutes my sister shouted out "Rosie would you get me a glass too?".

"Err, yeh" she mumbled, "just one minute." So we waited but nothing happened. Rosie did not walk in as planned so in a panick I looked at my sister and gave a shrug to imply maybe she was still lighting the candles. So again after a couple more minutes my sister shouted "Rosie where's my water?"

By this time Daisy had got kind of curious as to what was happening so she asked "do you want me to get it?". No! we all shouted. "I mean, ROSIE WILL GET THE WATER!" I shouted. Still no Rosie.

Obviously Daisy had cottoned on that something was up and was asking what we were up to. So after requesting the water one more time and no Rosie entering with the cake, my sister went into the kitchen to see what the hold up was.

Of course Daisy knew something was up especially as all we could here was laughing from the kitchen. We all got up to see what was happening when suddenly my sister, holding the cake, walked into the room. Everybody sang 'happy birthday' and sat down to cut the cake.

I turned to Rosie who seemed quite flustered and asked "what took you so long?" At this both my sisters started to laugh.

Apparently, when Rosie went to the kitchen as planned she noticed in the match box there were only 3 matches but there were 16 candles?

Mother Dearest (part 2)

Inspired by true events.

The Element of Surprise.

We had been planning this party for about a month now. Everyone had been given their tasks and the menu had been arranged and shared out so that each family brought one food dish to build up the buffet. The grandchildren were also involved and were given instructions for organising all the party decorations and banners for their nans surprise party. It was going to be the best party my mother had ever had.

Since the passing away of my father, mum had become very down and depressed. Which is understandable considering they had been married for over 38 years and loved each other dearly. In any case having this party, for her birthday, was going to cheer her up and show her how much we love her.

Two days before her birthday, mother rang and I picked up. After catching up on the latest events, mother asked, "I hope you can make it on Thursday, it will be nice to have you round."

"Oh, umm actually, Thursday I have invited my friends round. I haven't seen them in a while and it will be good catching up." I said this in a light-hearted manner as not to indicate that I knew my words would have hurt her. "Why don't you come round to mine on that day, as I know it's your birthday?"

"No, I was hoping you would come, your brother is buying a cake and it would be nice to have my children around." You could tell by the tone she was not happy. "I phoned your sister and she is not feeling well so will not be coming either."

"It's ok, I am sure she will come on the weekend, like me. You know it's hard on weekdays' due to work." I promised but was feeling really bad now.

"Your other brother will be home late from work on that day too, so he will probably pop in for a minute just to say happy birthday." she said sounding so sad, but eventually we finished our conversation and said our goodbye's. The call ended.

I knew for a fact that all my brothers and sisters had come up with an excuse to say they were busy, just so mum would be fully surprised at her party. The plan had been instigated and now we were just waiting for the day to arrive.

On the day of the party, as planned everyone had gathered at our friends (more like a sister) house and had the food and decorations set up. My mother lived just down the road with my younger brother and his wife. Everything was ready except for one thing that no-one had accounted for; how were they going to call mum to come up to this house without her suspecting a party. The dilema.

"I know" one of my sisters said. "We will get our friend (who's house we were in) to phone down to my mum and say her the baby had fallen and was bleeding from the head."

I can honestly say the room was buzzing with excitement and if there was any other way we could get our mum to come we would have done it. After considering the idea (granted it was only considered for about a minute) my friend took the phone and started the call.

She was good. She deserved an oscar for her performance. Even though the phone call lasted one minute or even less, she had cried in such a panicked way that a couple of us had to ask if the baby had really fallen. She then slammed the phone down. Everyone crammed into the kitchen waiting for my mum.

Again within a couple of minutes the doorbell rang and there was urgent banging on the door. My friend went to open the door. Everyone waited patiently in the kitchen, when we heard our mother in the living room we poured out the kitchen and shouted "SURPRISE!!!."

Pouring out that kitchen and shouting 'surprise', you should have seen mum's face. She was in shock. Looking at her she must have run pretty fast to get here so quick.

Her hair was not combed, she didn't have a coat on and one shoe was on her foot with the other in her hand, not to mention the expression on her face. She looked petrified with everyone pouring out the kitchen shouting 'surprise'. My other brother and his wife arrived saying "she ran out before we could stop her."

All of a sudden we heard a noise. "Eeeeeeeee," it was a high pitched screeching sound. We turned to our mother and saw her holding her chest, making this sound and trying to breath.

All hell broke loose, within a couple of seconds there was everyone rallying around mum, shouting at all the kids to go out to the garden and screaming at each other saying it was their idea.

"Mum, what's the matter, just breath."
"Oh no, we've killed our mother on her birthday."
"Come on mum, it was a surprise party, the baby is fine, just breath."
"No you move out her way, why should I move."
"Who's stupid idea was this, if she dies that won't be good."
"Eeeeeeee," tears rolling down my mums face while she tries to breath and her clutching her chest and all of a sudden falling to the ground making the screeching noise. It was a manic time.

Little fights broke out, where my sisters blamed each other and my brother blaming everyone for the stupid idea. It was such a sight. Mum was still screaming and crying everyone was telling her to calm down and breath giving her an inhaler and other prescription drugs that she takes for angina and diabetis. Yes I know, we should have taken her health into consideration before our stunt. We just hadn't planned it would take such a drastic turn for the worse.

Eventually everything did calm down. We got mum on the sofa and gave her some air, everyone was upset by things that had been said in the heat of that moment and were sitting quietly in a huff. The atmosphere was quite tense.

"So! where are my presents?" mum said looking at everyone as if nothing had happened. We all burst out laughing.

Trust me we have never given her a surprise party since.

A Dedication

Spinach is Greener on the Otherside.

Inspired by true events.

Have you ever made mud cakes? I don't mean putting loads of chocolate in a bowl with flour, eggs, sugar and other ingredients then baking the mixture to make a cake. No, I mean literally filling a bowl with soil dug from your garden, adding water to make a paste, making little patties with the mixture and leaving it in the sun to dry; well I have. Luckily, my mind goes convenietly blank as to remembering whether these mud cakes were ever taken up by human consumption. Truthfully even if they had I don't think I would admit it.

"Don't worry dear I won't be that much longer" mum was talking on the phone to my brother who was desperate for her to come home. "Nan is getting better by the day, tommorrow she will be back from hospital so it will only be a couple of days after that".

"Oh, mum I just miss you alot" my brother huffed at the phone. Grabbing it off him I started grinning whilst shouting down the phone "Only because he is missing your cooking" I started to laugh. My brother grabbed the phone back.

Mum had been gone for a week now and I was left in charge of the cooking and to be fair I was not the best cook in the house,(obviously after reading the first paragraph)so understandably my brother was not happy.

When the phone call finished dad went out to get some take-away for us all, which cheered my brother up. "Why don't you cook if you think my food is bad, you always say you could do better" I said in a mocking tone never expecting him to take up the offer.

"I will then, dad will probably love it more than yours anyway" he replied in a playful manner.

So the next day my brother was chef and as promised he started to prepare a meat and spinach stew. He chopped an onion and started to fry it in a bit of oil adding salt and mixed herbs which he found in the kitchen. He was following a recipe from one of mum's cook books' and seemed to be doing a good job as the smell was irresistable.

Bless, he seemed so happy in his own little bubble, faffing around in the kitchen cupboards thinking he was Gary Rhodes, chopping the spinach evenly which he had freshly picked from the garden. He was loving it.

I was beginning to get abit jealous now, not just because the food was looking and smelling good in the serving bowl on the table but because Dad kept saying "at last a proper meal, my son the cook" and then laughing with my brother.

We all sat down and started tucking into our meal. "Mmmm, that's lovely" dad said. "Are you sure you made it and it's not shop brought". My brother just grinned from ear to ear. I didn't say a word.

"Mmmm, delicious" again Dad made a point of saying. "Just one thing though,some of this spinach seems really tough". Dad said trying to clean some spinach off his front teeth with his tongue. My brother and me both looked at dad and I agreed there did seem to be something wrong with the food. "Which shop did you get the spinach from, I should complain".

"I didn't buy the spinach I picked it from the garden next to the mint leaves".

"Huh, we don't grow spinach in our garden" dad said while pulling a long thin piece of grass from his teeth.

Mother Dearest (part 1)

Inspired by true events

"I didn't just go to one shop, I went to five" father said with a hint of pride in his voice. "It did take a long time to choose the right machine but I had to be certain I wasn't buying something crap that would break in a year".

Infact I don't think father had ever chose a household appliance without searching a billion shops (slight exaggeration on my behalf).

Our washing machine had died on us and the fact that it had lasted about ten years just proved my father right about searching for a bargain. He had been looking for several weeks now and during this period the clothes were being washed on a daily basis by hand. The bedsheets were the hardest to do (as you can imagine); me or my sisters had to climb into the bath and stamp around on the sheets to give them a good going over, then mother would rinse, ring and hang them out to dry. Even though it sounds like fun it had started to wear mother down, so obviously the pressure was on for a new washing machine. Yet, father still managed to shop around and get the best deal out there.

"Look how many functions it has and have you seen the size of the drum?" father was showing his newly installed machine to mum's friend, who by the look on her face seemed impressed. Father had asked mum to christen the machine so she had left to collect a load.

On her return she started to load up the machine as per instructions.

"You only need to put half a cup of powder in one load as this is the latest model and it can clean just as good, if not better,with that amount rather than using a whole cup" father carried on bragging about his machine. "Now all you do is press this button, turn this knob and switch it on, tadaaa, listen to how much quieter it is than the normal machine".

For about five minutes into the wash father, mum's friend and us children stood and watched the machine listening to other facts about the new appliance. Mother had gone off to make some tea and every now and then would pop her head around and ask how much sugar etc, etc.

All of a sudden the machine started making a loud rumbling noise, chugg chugg chugg; it got louder and harder. Chugg, Chugg, bang bang the noise had got louder still and the machine started to move forward slightly.

Sheer panick on Dad's face "erm, I think I must have pressed the wrong button", chugg, rumble, the machine kept on making the noise. Trying to push the moving machine backwards into it's place and also pushing a load of buttons dad said "Errr, I will shut it off just to make sure it's not because the door wasn't closed properly". It just kept on making the noise and to make matters worse dad was having no luck in switching it off (something to do with water being in the drum and the door being locked, child proof, I don't know some super new function that dad had just boasted about). Dad was absolutely struggling now, faffing with this button and that switch, he honestly did not know what to do (not to mention the embarrassment infront of mum's friend).

Mother had heard the commotion and came back into the room. Seeing dad stressed she said "oh! move out the way I will fix it" saying this she took over with the button pushing. The noise just continued. Father was trying to explain to the friend that the machine is brand new and maybe he should call the company and complain when out of the blue mother had started kicking the washing machine and banging on the side really hard. I mean my mother was no footballer but I reckon she could have got the ball from one end of the pitch to the other, thats how hard she was kicking this brand new machine.

Father just looked on and before he could say anything the noise stopped. The machine was quiet and still processing the clothes. With everyone just looking at her, mother walked off back towards the kitchen and shouted, "There's no way I'm handwashing again; stupid machine, didn't even come with any free washing powder".

Summertime

Inspired by true events.

I loved Summertime, especially since school was closed and there were six lovely weeks of late nights and waking up at midday to the beautiful sunny days just playing, eating and more playing it was the best time of the year.

Describing the games that we (me, my sister and our two friends) played or the things we did in the Summer is best depicted by, maybe a novel written by Enid Blyton probably a famous five story (except there was only four of us and we were not at all famous); or even the film 'Stand by Me' (except no dead body or railway track).

Stealing blackberries from the neighbours bush then making blackberry squash by adding sugar and water to them (loads of sugar might I add). Having water fights with other children who we really did not know and their parents telling our parents that we had ruined their best going out clothes.

Infact, getting into trouble with mum was a major part of the Summer. I mean if a day had gone past without getting into trouble I am sure it was because we were either asleep all day or ill. Even so, I loved the Summer.

"If I ever catch you on the roof of the kitchen again then I will smack you" mum said very angrily. I had often just climbed on the roof and sat there on the ledge just staring at the view, maybe drawing a picture or two or maybe just spying on my sister through her bedroom window which overlooked the roof. Sometimes, I got caught but majority of the time I got away with it.

I listened to mum quietly and when finished I went to my sisters room. Our neighbour was there who was also our best friend ever and both of them were talking about how they hated 'Europe' and the song 'A Final Countdown'. It was number one at that time and had been playing constantly on the radio and top of the pops.

"He is the ugliest man in the world, and totally grosses me out" Daisy said.

My sister was laughing hysterically because she had just bought a teen magazine with him in full on a two page spread and she was flashing the picture towards Daisy and making kissy noises. Daisy was so not impressed but the laughter continued until eventually Daisy was called by her mum for tea and had to go.

"It would be hysterical if we could pin this picture on her bedroom wall tonight, ready for her when she gets up in the morning" my sister had said with a mischievious grin. " she will be totally freaked. Why don't you go and ask her mum".

"Me, no way you do it" I replied.

"Oh, pleeeeease, you know your the bestest sister ever"

"No way, any how I don't think we could do it without waking her up anyway, so it's a silly idea".

"We should try because it would be hilarious" my sister said smiling at me. So we sat and thought for a while.

"Umm, what about if I climb on the Kitchen roof and access her window from her Kitchen roof then sellotape the picture on her window" I said excited that this idea might work. "Then, when she wakes up and opens her curtains she will see his face looking in on her and will scream, it will be so funny" I sounded so enthusiastic.

"What if you break their roof, mum will kill you".

"Oh, please I am super slick on the roof, just like catwoman I can slide across light and nimble" I said doing an immpression of catwoman tippy toeing in the bedroom. That evening the plan had been set and early tommorow (well around 11am) it would be put into action.

I woke up at 10.30am all eager to put our plan into play. After waking my sister, I quietly opened the garden door and outside I climbed on our kitchen roof. Careful not to make any noise, as not to wake Daisy or even my mother.

Very cautiously I climbed onto the neighbours kitchen roof.

Tippy toe, tippy toe, tippy toe, across the top I went, very slowly as not to fall or make any sound that would be heard in the neighbours kitchen. The picture rolled up in one hand and sellotape in the other, tippy toe, tippy toe all the way to her window. I was there at last and the curtains were closed so I carefully opened the picture and placed it face inwards on the window.

Now trying to use the sellotape with one hand whilst holding the picture against the window with the other and having to use my teeth to break the tape proved quite tricky but I eventually managed it.

I looked up towards the window and reached out my hand to place the first strip of tape when all of a sudden the curtain opened. I froze.

It all happened within a couple of minutes, I looked up at the face in the window, which was not Daisy's by the way but her mothers, looking very angrily at me. So I jumped backwards and fell towards our kitchen roof. Even then I did not stop I just crawled towards our roof and once on it I stood up and looked at Daisy's mum asking "What are you doing? you could have fallen". All I could say was it was the picture. I don't even know why I thought her mum would know what I was talking about.

All of a sudden I heard banging on my sisters window and I thought she is calling me to climb in. So on turning my head and getting ready to run in that direction, again I just froze.

Mum had been banging on the window and she looked really angry saying she was going to kick my butt. Showing me her fist, she was opening the window but before she could scream at me, all I could think of before I jumped off the roof was 'It's the Final Countdown dannana nanananan dannana nanananna (music to the song).........

Obviously, I didn't die, I just sprained my ankle along with getting into sooo much trouble that wonderful, gorgeous Summer.

Patience is the Best Virtue.

In a small, square room leading off to the side of the upstairs landing was our bathroom. It was pretty bog standard (excuse the pun), on one wall we had the bath which took up a third of the room, a sink in the middle under the window and the toilet on the wall opposite the bath. We were getting a new bathroom fitted.

Mum had wanted the update for a long time now that she could not hide her excitement. She had chose the colour of the bath and had co-ordinated all the fixtures and fittings to make everything perfect.

The anticipation of delivery, for the goods was unbearable for mum, everyday she would ask dad "When is the delivery going to come?" or "How long will it take the fitter to install everything?". Dad just kept saying be patient it will be soon.

When the delivery did finally arrive dad contacted his fitter and asked him how long it would take and what it would cost. Once everything was agreed dad told mum.

"My friends husband fits bathrooms and he said he could do it cheaper and quicker" mum said to dad whilst eating lunch.

"No way, I have met him and he is not a professional fitter, he is just a handy man who does odd jobs here and there" dad replied "Don't worry my fitter is good and he will get the job done properly, be patient".

The children were excited too, we had heard so much about the new bathroom that we too were eager for it to be installed and seeing the old bath in the skip just increased our enthusiasm.

Everything had started off really well but then a hitch occurred, dad had got the measurements of the bath incorrect and the bath was too long for the room. The fitter had already gone home and so work had stopped, luckily it was only the bath left to fit as the toilet and sink had already been installed but mum was devastated and kept telling dad that if her friends husband had done it, he would have finished by now and managed to fit the bath in. Dad just kept saying it won't take that long once the bath has been exchanged.

The next day while dad was out mum decided to take matters in her own hands to rectify the situation so she called on her friend for help. An hour later the friends husband arrived to fit the bath.

In the evening we all waited downstairs for dad to come home, mum was beside herself with worry.

"What will your dad say?" she kept asking us, not really expecting us to answer. We all sat there waiting.

"It's ok, the bath will be delivered tommorow and the fitter will fit it on the same day" dad came in the house shouting for mum to hear. She just burst into tears.

Dad walked into the the room and asked mum "Whats the matter why are you crying" he was really concerned.

"Umm, when you went I contacted my friend who sent her husband to install the bath" mum said through the tears.

"How?, the bath is too long it won't fit".

"I just thought it won't hurt to try" mum said and took dad upstairs to see the bathroom.

There was a pile of rubble in the hallway and as it turned out mum was right, the handy man did manage to fit the bath in but because the bath was too long he had made a hole in the wall to make it fit. So all you could see standing on the landing was the rim of the bath poking out of the wall.

It was such a sight that all dad could do was laugh. Mum promised never to take matters into her own hands again. Next day Dad's fitter took out the long bath and plasterboarded the wall.

Physical Education

Inspired by true events.

"I hate P/E" Mo cried to her sisters. "I am going to ask mum if I can get a day off".

Me and my sisters watched her go to ask mum but we all knew what the answer would be. It would be the same as it was on Monday evening and last week and come to think of it the week before.

"The exercise is good for you, so you have to go". As predicted mum replied.

P/E in school was really horrible, not only did you face the embarrassment of being picked last for netball or rounders, but having to wear leotards and prance about doing some sort of ballet or other dance activity. Having to watch the other girls climb up ropes quickly; you being the only one who can't hold on and falling on your butt each time.

"I have to find a way to get out of P/E, will you help me"? my sister asked us; she was so desperate but we did not know what to do.

Days went by and finally the day came when I went to school and a friend of mine had broken her arm so she was exempt from doing P/E. Exempt from doing P/E, hhhmmmm. When I got home I told Mo about this revelation.

"How shall I do it though, the bone is not an easy thing to break" my sister asked me.

"I know, I will push you down the stairs" I was quite serious at the time and I think Mo freaked out abit. "Noway! that would hurt", she said.

"Duh, of course it will hurt but it will hurt when your arm is broken anyway".

She would not listen to reason for that idea to take place so alas we decided to hit her arm with a shoe (honestly, we looked for a hammer but could not find one). After about three hits she moved her fingers towards me and said "This is not going to break my arm; your not even hitting it hard enough". So back to the drawing board we went.

"Hey, what about a black eye"? she said looking towards me with a glint in her eye. "That would work and it will be alot easier to achieve".

"I suppose" I said not sounding too convinced.

"I know, I will hit your eye with the shoe and then you can hit mine".

"Huh, the shoe! that will hurt look how big it is". I said with sheer panick on my face.

"Yeh your right". I could see by her facial expression she was searching for other items to use; to be fair I was also thinking of what to use because the thought of going to school with a black eye was sounding so supercool.

"A Spoon! we will use a spoon, a couple of short and sharp blasts to the eye will defo do the trick" she said and asked me to get the spoon.

I ran down and got the spoon. On my return we both sat on the bed facing each other totally ready for the procedure to start.

"I will hit you first then once your done, you can hit my eye" Mo said, far too enthusiastically. I agreed.

The first hit hurt but it wasn't that bad as Mo had done it lighter than expected. No! it hadn't turn black on the first hit so again Mo hit me in the eye and again and again. After the fourth hit we checked my eye and no it was still not black but it had started to hurt alot more.

"How many more" I pleaded with her. "Just a few because it looks darker than before".

So one hit after the another pounded against my eye making the pain really intense (as you can imagine). I am sure Mo was getting far too much pleasure now so again I questioned how many more. "Just a few, are you in pain"?

"Ofcourse I am! it really hurts and when will it be my turn"?

Just ten more she said so the countdown began. 10, 9, 8, the pain was so intense and it seems Mo was getting really into the swing of it because the hits were getting stronger. 7, 6, 5. "Stop! now it really hurts". 4, "just three more". I could not take the pain, 3, yes she just kept on hitting harder, 2, I was literally crying now, 1. The hitting had stopped, it was all over, I wiped my face and asked Mo if it had worked. "Well, it has gone reddish so I don't know".

It was my turn now and taking the spoon from my sister, I started to smile.

"Uh, I don't think so, I can see how much pain your in so there is noway I am going to let you hit my eye", saying this she got up laughing and walked away so I ran to tell my mum.

The next day I did have a beautiful black eye and yes I did go to show it off at school and yes it just happened to be a P/E day. I was so happy approaching the teacher and saying I can't do P/E because I had a black eye.

"Black eye, what has that got to do with your hands and feet" the teacher laughed.
"Go get into your leotard".

A Glass of Orange a Day

Inspired by true events.

Drinking is a part of life, be it water, juice or pop, everybody has to drink (not alcohol though)but have you ever drank juice from a carton and placed it back into the fridge thinking you would never get caught? Or what about drinking tobacco spit from a coke can because it looked like coke? Or maybe reaching out and grabbing your sisters drink and spitting in it so she can't take it back and it becomes yours? I would hope non of the above has occurred but if it has then uuggh, totally gross.

"It is going to be the best party ever" my sister said on Saturday morning. I was not amused but I think that was due to jealousy more so than anything else.

"It's my Birthday party and all my friends will be there and I'm going to get loads of presents and".

"Blah, blah, blah, boring" I said trying so hard not to show that i was indeed very jealous.

"Have you seen the cake? Mum has done loads to eat" she continued.

It was true mum had brought a large cake and all the other party food and drink needed to have a wicked party. My sister had new clothes to put on and her dress was gorgeous I am not even going to describe it because I wanted it to be mine.

My sister was lapping up the attention and being such a brat, making innocent facial expressions to get what she wanted and everyone having to run around her because it was her birthday.

The party was planned for the evening and all her friends would be there, we had decorated the room and laid out a massive table with all her favourite foods on; the drinks well just Orange squash actually. Coke was very expensive and mum thought it would be too much sugar for us to have (especially since she read a recent article in the newspaper which indicated one glass of sugar in every glass of coke or something like that)so instead we had orange squash. It was ok though because my sister loved orange squash.

So the evening came and the party was in full swing, my sister showing off with all her presents and jumping around playing games like 'blindmans bluff' and 'British Bulldog'. Always wanting to win. We had eaten loads and my sister was going through the orange juice like it was the last time she would have it.

"Stop running around like that you will make yourself sick" mum yelled at her, trying to calm her down.

Little did I know that maybe I too should have stopped jumping around. As i picked up a glass to drink some more squash I felt a rising in my stomach and as quickly as that I was being sick in the only thing I had in my hand. The Glass.

Turning my face away from the others I quickly wiped my face on my sleeve and placed the glass on the table. It looked orange in colour and staring at it made me feel worse so I walked away to freshen up. Luckily nobody had seen and I was relieved to think I would not get into trouble with mum for it.

On my return I watched everybody having fun; it had totally slipped my mind about the glass full of sick on the table. Just a happen glance towards it, I remembered but as I walked towards it my sister had got to it first and before I could say anything ............

Life in La La Land

Inspired by true events.

Buses, what can be said to describe the bleak rides people take to school, work or even leisure places. Breathing in odours from the person sitting next to you which you hope was just bad perfume. Or getting a whiff of early morning bad breath when someone asks you to let them pass. Or maybe seeing your stop is approaching but your sitting at the back of a full bus; having to push forward brushing past farty old men and uppity women who make 'tut, tut' noises at you.

Well, that is to name but a few happenings of my own experiences while riding on a bus (the bad breath more so than the others) except, ofcourse on the day (actually it was night) of the best holiday I ever went to.

"The bus will leave at exactly 2am, so you had better get to bed early" mother had advised me.
I was so excited about the trip that I just could not bear to sleep so soon. Friends and relatives had come to see us off and I was having such a good time discussing what i was going to do on my holiday that before I knew it, it was already 2am and me,my brother and my parents were on the bus waving goodbye to all.

I sat next to my mother and looked around the bus, it was going to be a long ride and as mum had already sarted to doze off I just thought what a boring start to my holiday. To make matters worse there was not enough leg room to feel comfortable and a big man behind my seat just wanted to stretch and as you can imagine my seat would get the brunt of it. I just lay my head forward against the seat infront and closed my eyes and thought 'The journey begins'.

I lifted my head and looked out the window and realised that an hour had already passed, everyone was more or less tyring to sleep or talking in whispers as not too disturb anyone. Looking around the bus I noticed a woman at the back sitting with a black long dress and she was looking straight at me.

I turned my head to face the front quickly as she had totally spooked me. There was something about her face that made me feel so uneasy. I didn't want to look back again but my curiosity had got the better of me; so slowly I turned my head toward the back. She had gone!! Where could she go the bus had not stopped and the windows were all closed? I frantically looked around the rest of the bus having to stand up just to see each seat. She had just disappeared.

I sat back down and thought of telling my mum when out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of her black dress. She was there. Standing there at the front of the bus looking straight at me except this time she had an axe in her hand. In a split second of seeing it she flung it towards me, I shouted NO!

"Stop it, you idiot you are embarassing me"
"huh" I said in a daze.
"I can't take you anywhere, your snoring is making other passengers stare and wipe that drool from your mouth, it's disgusting your dribbling on the floor" mum said angrily.

"Huuh". I lifted my head from the front chair and looked up to see the passengers across the walkway looking at me and laughing while I wiped the drool from my mouth. Not to mention my brother who was in hysterics.

The Parrot has a Twin

This story is inspired by true events.

We were excited at the sight of the talking parrot,sitting on it's perch making 'kaw, kaw' noises. When asked the parrot would repeat some mundane word or try to imitate it at least. It had engaged us for approximately one hour and now it was time to go home. Mother had called for us to have our supper.

Running home we were all eager to tell her about this beautiful parrot at my friends house. Even though I had seen it a day before today I wanted my brother and two sisters to see it as they had not believed me yesterday, especially since i went on and on about how it had said my name, it hadn't ofcourse but I was never going to admit that to my siblings.

"Can we have one? Please" we pleaded with mum whilst eating our pasta. All of us making so much noise chattering away about the parrot named 'Pauli', that finally when our mum told us to 'shut up' we were not surprised. We finished our supper, only every now and then whispering exaggerated details of the day, then ran upstairs to tell our dad.

Dad was upstairs in his bedroom watching his favourite comedy 'some mother's do ave em' and as you can imagine was not impressed by our noise but before he could say anything mother walked in and to our surprise asked our dad if he can afford a parrot, as they were quite expensive for the average working man.

"Ok,ok, yes! I will get one just let me watch tv" dad cried out. We all left his room just incase he got angry.

Two days later dad comes home with this black bag which seemed to have something moving inside it.

"It's here! It's here! we have a parrot, dads bought the parrot" all the children came running into the front room following dad. Mum came in also but within a minute we all, including dad, came running out and slammed the door shut.

Seeing as Gossip Girl did not realise, all is forgiven but yes, dad had bought home a pigeon he caught from the street and it was wild. It pood everywhere and we had to get someone to come and catch it. Mum was not impressed.

(p.s please try to refrain from adding your own endings to the stories).