i have a fantastic long-term memory. it's shite with the short-term but ask me what happened in my life between 1986 and 2002 and i've got you covered. don't know why you'd care but still, covered.
i retold this story just yesterday. vivid, vivid memory. funny to me. worth keeping. and I figure, if nothing else, this blog will be good to burrow through when I am 94 and riddled with Alzheimer's - someone will just need to remind me i kept a blog.
so, i am in kindergarten, sitting at my desk, holding a pair of scissors. presumably the class is playing some kind of cut and paste game, before the popularity of ctlr x, ctrl v. i, however, am cutting strips in my school dress. from the hem, about three cm upwards. not sure why. just am. about six strips in i wonder what exactly i am doing and start pondering how i am going to explain myself.
"Johnny Simpson* crawled under the desk and cut all the girls dresses, mum. he did," turned out to be the best i could come up with. seemed to work though.
anyway, it got me off the hook. Johnny went on to become the guy at school who always had never-ending funds to spend on toffee apples at the canteen. he was also the hardest person to "scab" money off, and i wanted a redskin damn it. he also once held a party when his parents were away, but got so drunk when his cricket game was washed out in the afternoon, he passed out before it started. he woke up to a graffitied kitchen and family bicycles at the bottom of the pool et al. it wasn't me.
*I've changed Michael's name for his protection. Oops.