What are Friends for?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Imaginary Friend.

We all need somebody to blame when we’re caught in the hot stuff.  In times of yore, Princes had whipping boys – Now settle down, it’s nothing to do with S and M, but it is nearly as painful.  (So they tell me!)

I had one of those; he took the blame for everything.  I called him ‘boy.’   He was miffed.

‘I do have a name, you know!’

’‘What is it?’

‘George.’

So I called him Boy George.

I had an Aunt Laura, my favourite Aunt.  She would come to our house at weekends and chat to my parents while I waited impatiently.  When they had done, Auntie would take me for a walk and we would stroll in the park, and chase the ducks at the pond, and then always on the way home, we had an ice cream.  I really liked Auntie.

Then my brother got born.  That was really annoying.  Why does one need a brother?  They don’t dress dolls, they can’t knit, and they are quite useless at applying lipstick and nail stuff.  Anyway, he was there, and suddenly he had to come with us. In his pram!  Aarrrgh!

I was inclined to be bossy, and devious.  The next time Auntie came, I went into the bedroom and stripped my brother.  Every last stitch, and then I hid all his clothes.

‘John can’t come.’ I said.  ‘He’s lost his trousers.’

‘How did that happen?’  Mother asked.

‘Boy George did it,’ I said.

Well, he had.  He’d rushed in with his guitar, hung his hat on the banisters, and borrowed the clothes.

So!  My brother couldn’t come!  Obviously.  He’d be too cold!

It may explain why we never really got along.

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

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