You know, when I was born, my dad just walked out on us. My mum raised me on her own, although looking back now, Im not sure she ever really acted much like a proper parent. For as long as I can remember, she was either off her head on something, vanished for days at a time, or bringing all sorts of friends round to our little house.
Up until I was about ten, I honestly thought every kid grew up the same way I did. Thought it was normal.
When I was at secondary school, I started working whatever odd jobs I could find around our village, just so Id have some food to eat. Sometimes Id get a few quid, sometimes just a hot meal as payment.
After I left school, I tried to find a decent job, but you know how it isif youre a poor kid with no connections, no money behind you… Well, I had to make do, much like my mum did.
I never had any idea where she got her money from, to be honest. The tiny bits I managed to earn were always spent straight away on food. She never wanted to change anything, and I suppose she preferred it that way.
Anyway, about three years ago, this bloke started popping round our place more and more. He looked like he hadnt two pennies to rub together but didnt exactly seem like a proper drunk either. He was usually friendly enough to me but most of the time hardly acknowledged I existed. I actually started hoping maybe hed be good for mummaybe wed all move in together and finally escape that miserable life.
And for a while, it looked like those hopes might come true. After a few months of him stopping by nearly every day, he just sort of moved in. He wasnt unpleasant to me or anything, it just always seemed like he was trying to ignore me. But then the rug got pulled out from under me when I least expected it.
Wed been living together for about six months. One evening, I came home with some money Id worked really hard to earn, thinking it might cheer mum up a bit since shed been in such a foul mood lately.
But as soon as I walked in the door, she started shouting at me that I wasnt welcome anymore and needed to leave. At first, I had no idea what Id done. I hadnt given her any reason to kick off like that. But I saw there was no point arguing with her while she was like that. I went to stay at a mates place that night, hoping it was just one of her moods and shed calm down in a day or two.
But nonext day, same thing. Id been chucked out. Turns out that bloke had never liked me and talked her into getting rid of me. And she went along with it.
Just like that, at 21, I found myself without a home. Luckily, Ive got friends who look out for me and let me crash with them. I still earn my living however I can, same as I always did.
So when I see people moaning that their kids dont respect their parents, I always thinksometimes, there really are good reasons for that.
