"I was old enough to realise that I was in deep shit, but I was clever enough to leave him sit there"
It was mid June and the year was 2005, making me about 18 years young. This particular day I was struck down with a deep lying and dull toothache - you know the ones where the painkillers numb the pain initially but when they wear off its a pain like no other! I was well able to feel sorry for myself so I was, and so without breaking stride I upped the dramatics a notch or two when I saw the rest of the family preparing for their annual 'spring-clean', usually meaning that the relation from the US/UK were on the way. My appetite for work was never strong and any impediment that could bring me down I usually did my best to fall over it. This time though I would have gladly thrown on the gladrags and put my weight to the wheel because oh man did it hurt!
After a dinner of flat diet 7-up and occasional groans (to add effect and highlight my plight in front of the workforce) I took my pitiful self to the only man who could save me now.....the dentist. It was actually a simple enough procedure in the end to remove a wisdom tooth that was acting non too wise. I got home to tell the tale to who ever would listen but I was back asleep before that little star Twinkle Twinkle had even got close to being like a diamond in the sky.
I woke suddenly about 5 hours later (it was actually more like 20 minutes) crouched awkwardly on the sofa with drool everywhere. 'I'll just turn these over and no one will ever know'. But what had brought me to my senses was actually a thunderous and forceful banging noise from the exterior. Dad was at the window crouched down with an apron on (work related apron - dad wasn't one for the cooking apron types) and a face that told a story of a hard days work. COME OUT HERE YOU AND DRIVE THIS TRACTOR FOR ME (Caps locks to identify the urgency and aggression in his delivery). I was a little dazed but at his bequest I wiped away the remaining drool and responded in the affirmative.
When I made my way out I, like those good detectives I was used to seeing on 'the Bill', surveyed the scene. He was looking to clean the gutters, the ladies of the house could not drive the tractor, I could (barely) so it was my duty to help him reach these sludge filled viaducts and save the day - simple as pie.
LIFT ME UP THERE as he pointed to the tractor loader and the roof with one shot of his right arm. I quickly snapped out of detective mode and back into pleb mode as I understood the significance of the cap locks as he waited patiently in the bucket of the loader. In truth I wasn't at the races to be honest and it took me a few goes to turn on the bloody tractor.......ahhh the automatic stop was pulled out, better push that back in. I gave an apologetic look out the window and the response was one of HURRY THE FCUK ON (it is important to note that if I had anything bigger than CAP LOCKS I would be using them right here!!).
It started well though, and by that I mean I got him high enough to reach into the drainpipe and clear out the horrible stuff. There was loads of it stuck in the drainpipe so we were stuck in the same position for a few minutes at a time. Slow progress but progress none the less as I eeked my way forward, a few slow yards at a time. Disaster was about to strike though. Between the sun pelting down and the local anesthetic not fully wearing off I must have slipped off into the land of nod. Not for very long, but long enough to know that I was in deep shit when I woke up!
All would have been fine and dandy if I pulled up the handbrake or took the vehicle out of gear but did I? Of course I didn't!!! That would have been far too sensible. So when darkness hit me the tractor sprung into life and the only thing that could stop it was the roof of the porch, which it invariably did......with massive consequences! It wasn't the noise of the impact that woke me though! Nope, not the noise of the tractor pummeling into the porch, nor the noise of the slates smashing off the ground. No, it was the noise of my dad. This time the cap locks dont do justice to the abuse that was hurdling my way. Where do I look? What do I do? Well my sisters and mother were no help as they ran away to laugh out loud (no - they did not LOL as this was still the era of CD's, baggy clothes and text messages) in a location that wasn't in front view of the father. Lord Jesus he was still roaring I thought to myself.
It the struck me..........I was still in control of the situation. He was up there, I was down here. The only way down was if I let him down. Me.
We finished the gutter and I finally let him down. We didn't really say much about it at the time but from then on I sensed that my brother, 10 years my junior, was probably now heir to family farm......and could I really have any complaints!?!!
