I wanted a bongo drum for Christmas the year I finished my secondary education. Why? I can't remember, but I wouldn't settle for anything else. It seems weird over time because I am far from musical and I hadn't met the only musician I knew, who played the drums in a jazz band. He was my sort-of boyfriend for a while after I had finished at art-school, and he was 'sort of' because he was a drug addict which made him rather inconsistent. The only thing consistent about him was his insane attachment to me. I still don't understand it, but it was handy at the time, because it made me seem cool when I wasn't at all. Anyway, that was a few years after the year of the bongo.
After I made my need clear to my mother, she said a quite clear, 'hm.' I took that as a commitment but somehow I still didn't trust her.
That year we were staying in a summer venue that consisted of derailed railway carriages that had been re-deployed as accomodation for holiday makers. Why were we there? Because that was my mother's job that year. Her about-to-be third husband owned them and many other properties, and she was his major decorator.
The weather was lovely and both my sisters were holidaying there too. I think my older sister may have been newly married but she was still in on the plot to get me a bongo for Christmas. Because my mother's answer had been somewhat shaky, I had to keep nagging in case she forgot. That's a sure way to get what you want.
The other sure way is to offer threats. My mother never liked us to make too much noise because 'people.' So, we threatened her with making too much noise if she didn't promise the bongo. She wouldn't, so whenever 'people' walked past, one or the other of us would scream out loud, "Pleeeese stop beating me with the chain.' That would set us all off into giggles, even her, so as insurance, I doubt it was effective. However, I was pretty sure as Christmas day neared that I would have my wish. She had also said, "I know you will love your present."
The other thing about me other than not being musical is that I hate the beach. I hate walking on sand, and I hate swimming in salty water. I hate being sunburnt and I can't bear wearing a swimsuit. Do you wonder why I am saying this? Oh, let me tell you...
After nagging about the bongo for possibly a month, Christmas day arrived. I was so excited and planning on experimenting with my bongo the whole day until I was an expert.
My present was in the little sitting area. I saw it and backed up. No bongo drum could possibly fit into a long slim parcel. My mother was smiling and so I guessed she had used a joke present and the bongo would be hiding elsewhere. I opened the fake present and found a beach umbrella, so I knew she was teasing me.
But unfortunately, although I waited for some hours, I had actually been given a beach umbrella, something that not in my wildest dreams would I want! I tried to be gracious, but she had spent money on but something I would never use.
After I made my need clear to my mother, she said a quite clear, 'hm.' I took that as a commitment but somehow I still didn't trust her.
That year we were staying in a summer venue that consisted of derailed railway carriages that had been re-deployed as accomodation for holiday makers. Why were we there? Because that was my mother's job that year. Her about-to-be third husband owned them and many other properties, and she was his major decorator.
The weather was lovely and both my sisters were holidaying there too. I think my older sister may have been newly married but she was still in on the plot to get me a bongo for Christmas. Because my mother's answer had been somewhat shaky, I had to keep nagging in case she forgot. That's a sure way to get what you want.
The other sure way is to offer threats. My mother never liked us to make too much noise because 'people.' So, we threatened her with making too much noise if she didn't promise the bongo. She wouldn't, so whenever 'people' walked past, one or the other of us would scream out loud, "Pleeeese stop beating me with the chain.' That would set us all off into giggles, even her, so as insurance, I doubt it was effective. However, I was pretty sure as Christmas day neared that I would have my wish. She had also said, "I know you will love your present."
The other thing about me other than not being musical is that I hate the beach. I hate walking on sand, and I hate swimming in salty water. I hate being sunburnt and I can't bear wearing a swimsuit. Do you wonder why I am saying this? Oh, let me tell you...
After nagging about the bongo for possibly a month, Christmas day arrived. I was so excited and planning on experimenting with my bongo the whole day until I was an expert.
My present was in the little sitting area. I saw it and backed up. No bongo drum could possibly fit into a long slim parcel. My mother was smiling and so I guessed she had used a joke present and the bongo would be hiding elsewhere. I opened the fake present and found a beach umbrella, so I knew she was teasing me.
But unfortunately, although I waited for some hours, I had actually been given a beach umbrella, something that not in my wildest dreams would I want! I tried to be gracious, but she had spent money on but something I would never use.
This is me that year, minus the bloody umbrella. I kept it for years, dragged it around from house to house but never did find a use for it. (You might wonder why I was on the beach when I hated the beach. It was that, or ruin the day for everyone else. But even with my face turned away, you can see I was not in a holiday mood.)
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