I had a beakdown at eighteen.
I pushed myself too hard.
And I crumbled.
When I was well enough,
I looked to get back on the horse.
And my mother said that
I would never get an office job,
That at eighteen I was too old.
And a sixteen year old would get it.
And Fred hit the roof
At the way my mother was
With me at home.
I told him that I knew
How to take her by now.
And nothing that came
Out of her mouth
Was unexpected and my
Mum was a bit of a
Deviant with her moral standing.
She liked to be controversial.
She liked to bend the rules.
And she was not afraid
To have an opinion.
Even if it was extreme
And usually wrong.
Like saying "foreigners"
Take all our jobs and houses
Ship them back to
Their own country.
When she has no idea
About my grandfather's heritage
And my blood fathers
Side is German.
I told Fred that if Scotland
Were playing England
She would be the only
One to cheer when England
Scored in a pub full of
Drunk scotsmen. I would
Not recommend anyone
Do this in a pub.
She was proud we
Were religiously nothing.
We are nothing.
She was obsessed with
Winning the lottery.
And she enjoyed working
In the pub because she
Could sit and play cards
Or dominoes with the regulars
All afternoon on early shifts.
It was the only job
She never complained about
And my Grandfather
Spoke about it himself.
My mother is not an advocate
Of suffering in silence.
And Fred was right when
He observed my mothers
Odd behaviour towards me
And saying that just because
Her life never turned out
The way she wanted,
That she was cruel
For trying to discourage me
From trying for an office
Based job instead of retail.
Or she was simply jealous
I was young and I over heard
Two women In the local
Speaking about my mother
Saying she had never grown up.
Her and my neighbour would
Check the court websites
To see if they knew
Anyone who was in trouble.
My mother would watch
Morning tv and go to
Work for four hours
Amassing about twenty
Hours for the week.
She would call her
Workmates wife the
Froggy from France.
And she empahsised
In the interview
That she was not idle.
And her workmate
Asked why a pretty
Young woman like me
Was having a hard time
Getting work and that
I looked better with
Some meat on my bones
They joked, knowing
I had been in hospital.
My mother told my neighbour
Someone has to keep
The wolf from the door.
And criticising our neighbour
For overly relying on a man.
I am sure my mother
Was paid off from
That job when they suspected
She was evading from
Speaking about me
And hiding something.
I only applied to the forces
Because the camaraderie
Would have been like
Having a new family.
A career was appealing too.
Having a title and identity.
Fred had a tirade one
Night we were out in the local.
Because my mum was
Friendly with a woman
Who was a "junkie."
Two faced b^tch, she lays
Into you for taking medication
And comparing you
To a drug addict and she
Sticks up for a proper junk head.
She is friends with
Someone still using.
And I tell Fred my mum was
A typical bar maid who considers
Herself a counsellor and listener
To all the customers.
I know she is like the god
Ravana with ten heads.
Amen, Fred says and chuckles.
Fred was not a fan of my parents.
It was nice that someone
Actually saw my side
For a change. My friends
Thought my parents were cool.
Their outlandish views.
And going out all the time.