‘I’m home darling’. Bollocks – Le Frogs’ Mother was back.
‘In here Mummy’
‘In here Mummy. What do you think you’re playing at? I can’t find my pants'
‘Put mine on’
‘What!’
‘Hi Mummy’
‘Alright, alright – it’s just a piece of string’
I left Le Frog via her bedroom window, a piece of string dissecting my buttocks as I shuffled my way back to school as quickly as my newly acquired undergarments would let me. My meeting with Aunty Veronica would have to wait just a little longer.
Mothers’ tube of Yardley hand cream was a welcome relief easing the probable irreparable damage caused by Le Frogs’ underwear of torture. For the next few days I just about managed to shuffle my way between classes with the excuse that I was suffering from severe chaffing due to an allergic reaction brought on by a new pair of polyester pyjamas. It was true I was experiencing a little irritation from them, but nowhere near as much as the open wounds caused by Le Frogs’ dental floss excuse for underwear. Why did I have to say pyjamas?
‘Mongers back’
‘I didn’t mean pyjamas, I meant boxers…and Monger is not back’.
Mother’s insistence for polyester had to stop. Le Frog had a lot to answer for and at the first available minute I would chuck her. Obviously I had already been chucked the minute I ran off wearing her underwear.
‘Please forgive me Gill? She meant nothing to me. Let’s snuggle on my bed and listen to St Winifred’s School choir”
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