A Child's Garden of Verse
2002-02-25 || 6:23 p.m.

Came home today to what at first looked like a raffia mat massacre. There were pieces of the poor place mat spread all over the front room. I gradually began to realise that it was, in fact, an understated and thoughtful piece of artistry. The dog had decided to turn the full size place mat into a small coaster size mat. I now need to see if he can do the rest for me, although I do think oval raffia mats may be a bit challenging. Up there on a par with Tracy Emin's bed I think.

Whilst I was hoovering up the aforementioned body parts of the RM I accidentally hoovered up the dogs bit of rag that is knotted, that he tugs on whilst some poor person is stuck tugging at the other end with him. Well it wouldn't go all the way up the hoover so I waved it in the dog's direction and yes, he took the bait and was hanging onto his bit of rag for dear life. So now I can play with the dog (if I leave the hoover running) and go shopping at the same time. It reminded me of the only episode of the Pink Panther I can remember from when I was a kid. I always remember the opening coz some really flash kid got into a car with cool doors and then the Pink Panther and all his friends got in too (I think), but I only remember one episode when the PP made a hoover which dragged him outside and hoovered up all his front garden. Hardly Nick Park but I can still remember it. I must have had a really underdeveloped sense of humour when I was a child.

I always find it strange that some totally ordinary days/events stick in your mind from years ago whereas others that must have been equally ordinary/boring don't. Why is that? I can remember being small enough to be able to stand under the stairs and look into the mirror. Totally Tropical's 'Hey I'm going to Barbados' was playing on the radio, and I suppose, judging by my size I must have been about 6/7. I had my school uniform on, I can still even see the leather purse on a string that my mum used to make me wear so I didn't lose my dinner money. Not that I was the sort of child that lost things because I was quite careful. Years of being moaned at makes you careful.

I can also vividly remember a day when I was about 3 and my friend came to play. My mum and her friend were sitting at the table drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes and me and my friend made a whole load of paper cigarettes so we could copy them.

Mind you it is the extraordinary events that stand out most, like the time I ran away from playschool. I had a strong sense of right and wrong even at 3 and I remember riding my tricycle into the cupboard because we had to put the toys away to have our milk and biscuits and I accidentally rode over a woman's foot. She smacked me and I got off the tricycle and got my three friends and said that I wasn't standing for that sort of treatment and was going home. I don't think I was the kind of child other kids argued with, I was quite bossy. They duly followed me. I knew the way home and when I got to the main road I asked some workmen to see us across. I let myself in at the side gate and led my friends (who weren't my usual friends, I don't think my usual friends would have been so silly as to come with me) to my slide and my poor mother looks out of the kitchen window to see four three year olds sliding down the slide when they should be at playschool. God I got belted by her badly AND dragged screaming back to playschool. I think the other children thought I'd let them down. I'd promised them all sorts of goodies but they did get a good floor show.