We were the wild family on the street. On bonfire night we came into our own though, all the neighbours would end up round our back garden as we would have a proper big fire whilst they'd let off thier fireworks in thier own garden. It was about the only night of the year when our family were appreciated. My mum made toffee that I can taste from memory still.
Once she became ill everything changed. The house never got cleaned again. Windows got broken and remained unrepaired. My dad, always a good drinker, became lost in alcohol. The electricity was usually off from unpaid bills. I would see my dad for five minutes whilst he got changed, had a shave, then went to the pub till closing time. As an adult I went drinking with him once, we met up in seacroft at11am , had 4 pints there then got a taxi to another pub where I had a further 5, he a further 11 and was clearly only just getting started, his words unslurred, his eyes still sharp. I left him there and woke up on a grass verge near Richards parents house. It gave me an insight in to how much he could drink. Easily 25 pints in a session. To some extent I have inherritted his talents but still, even at my best I couldn't come close.
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