Me and my best friend Michael, we used to pretend to be rock stars when we were younger. I began to dance round the table while I put the eggs in, pretending to play the guitar. If she can’t make a fool of herself in front of her family, where can she? She should be allowed to dance and listen to music all day long if she wants too, but my brother’s too mean to let anyone hear anything except the sound of his voice. Well, but who’s to see her? It’s just us, we’re her family. Me dad and Tony try to stop her because they think she’s making a fool of herself. She does these poses with her arms in the air, trying to balance on one leg and spin round like a ballet dancer – except she’s getting on for eighty and can’t walk all that well these days, let alone dance. Sometimes she gets up and we jiggle around the room together. I can hear her singing along while she’s still in bed. As soon as Dad and Tony are out the house, I put the music on while I do breakfast. She probably can’t remember long enough to know what we were doing, anyhow. Dad thinks it’s modern rubbish, but she’s too old to care about that sort of thing.
I could get back from school and I’d have hours to listen to anything I wanted. I don’t get much time on my own lately except first thing in the morning before school when me dad and Tony are out on the picket line.
He’d wrap the music up and stick it up his arse if he could. He always listens to it on his headphones when I’m around so’s I can’t hear it.
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