April 30th 1973

“back to School” / “Started having sandwiches”

I know I used to have school dinners, so maybe this change was a cost-cutting exercise by my parents?

Time, I feel, for an embarrassing ‘sandwich’ story…..

No, nothing like that…..

It was true that most of the time the sandwiches my Mum (or Dad) made me to take to school were very tasty morsels indeed, the chow down duly bowed down to.

Occasionally though, the sandwiches were not to my taste with ingredients I didn’t really care for.

I never chose to tell my parents about this. Guilty perhaps because I didn’t want them to think they had wasted their money and effort in making them, or just too respectful to question their food choice.

Most sensible children would have tried to swap said sandwiches with someone. Or, given the worst-case scenario, merely tossed them into a dustbin somewhere.

Not me though. For reasons that are TOTALLY beyond me now (and then, to be honest) I decided to *sigh* store the sandwiches (and/in their greaseproof paper outers) in the top corner of the wardrobe in my bedroom at home. Or, at least, I did for a while.

Eventually I must have forgotten about my peculiar little stash.

Until such time as the aroma began to get a little to much for my Mum who must’ve discovered them one day whilst cleaning, duly telling my Dad when he got home from work. To say I was ‘ripped a new one’ is perhaps a kind way of saying how much Dad told me off.

Nope, don’t no why and really can’t explain the bizarre actions.

Unless it was something to do with all that beer?

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