Farleys Rusk on my face 

​The arrival of my younger brother to our already bulging household was of little concern to me .It was not that I did not care ..its just I had other things on my mind …vowel sounds seemed to pour out of me no problem …The other sounds  caused untold problems …no one understood me and if I was honest I hadn’t a clue what was being said to me ….I still was a bit concerned about bowel movements and was desperate to get out of nappies …when he arrived I was able to pick things up and drop them with some ability …It was a time before digital photography so with some relief there are few if no images of me with dessicated snot mixed with Farley s rusk on my face ….If memory serves me correct I was a rotund child ..and wore my clothes as if I had been inflated into them,rolls of flesh appearing at openings in my baby grows ….my clearest memory of that infantile state was been drawn to the green door frame of the kitchen and using my recently arrived front tooth to gnaw away the flaking paint ..I lumped on the floor in my bulging nappy ..scratching away to reveal the brown undercoat … hands still sticky  I transported the flakes like trophies …. and then suddenly the floor was far away ..I seated forcibly in a sky blue high chair, would recieve an exfoliation from a rough damp flannelette. ..ears were frequent  storage for my scrapings. …eyes firmly closed ..I would rasp in protest as my face was pummeled clean……

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About mauricewoconnell

Maurice OConnell is a Creative based in Cornwall concentrating on Writing and Unique theatrical appearances.. He continues to imagine a world twice as exciting and dangerous than it could possibly ever be View all posts by mauricewoconnell

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