We played swingball until supper time when Mum called us in. We made the usual small talk as we ate, but in the back of mind was a burning question. “Mum?” I asked. “Do I have to wear a Sunday dress tomorrow?”
“Not necessarily.” Mum replied. “Why do you ask?”
I glanced at my sister and shrugged. “I dunno…”
“You did say he needed a Sunday dress.” Julia added, “When we were sorting out my cast off’s.”
“Yes but that’s just a figure of speech.” Mum replied. “In the olden days people would wear their best clothes on a Sunday because that’s the only day of the week they didn’t have to work. These days a Sunday dress is just a nice dress.”
“So I don’t have to wear one tomorrow?” I asked.
“Well it’d be nice if you did.” mum smiled. “But it’s up to you really.”
Since I’m being given the choice, I’d rather not. But with all the new additions to my wardrobe I have a feeling I’ll be persuaded to wear then sooner rather than later. “Are we going out tomorrow?”
“I haven’t got any plans.” Mum replied before asking us if there’s anything we’d like to do.
“Not really.” I replied. Julia had more of less the same idea as me.
“You could both give me hand clearing out the garage.” Mum suggested.
“OK.” I said. If one thing will guarantee me not having to wear a sodding dress for the day, it’s clearing out the garage.
The following morning we got started on clearing out the garage. We filled the car with the old paint pots and broken flat packed furniture that the previous owners had left behind and took it to the local tip. All the ‘good’ wood we put to one side as that could be burned and Mum sorted all the plant pots and talked dreamily about having a potting shed one day. “Is this going to the tip Mum?” Julia asked, finding an old desk behind all the old chipboard panels.
“Erm…” Mum mused as she wiped the dust from it. “…maybe it’ll fit in Matty’s room.” she said. “You could do with a desk.” she added. The desk was put to one side as we continued loading the car for its second tip run. Mum gave me a damp cloth to wipe the desk down with and I noticed that it has four holes in the top and pointed them out to Mum. “Maybe it had a mirror or something.” she suggested.
“Like this?” Julia said, pulling out an old framed mirror mounted on a stand with a couple of small wooden drawers. Mum picked it up and had a closer look. It has four pegs on the underside and she placed it on the desk and they slotted into the holes perfectly. “It’s a dressing table.” Julia noted.
“It is.” Mum agreed. “It’ll still do for a desk though.” she said, suggesting that my pens and pencils could go in the little drawers. We filled the car and headed off to the tip. On the way back we called into a pie shop and grabbed some lunch. Afterwards, Mum and I manhandled the desk up to my room. Julia followed with the mirror which I suggested wasn’t needed, but both Mum and my sister said it should stay.
“Why?” I asked. “It just makes the desk top smaller.”
“Well you need a dressing table as much as you need a desk Love.” mum replied.
“I need a desk, not a dressing table.” I claimed.
“You will when you start year ten.” Julia stated, reminding me that both girls and boys have to wear make-up for school from year ten onwards.
“That’s ages away.” I stated.
“It’s only eighteen months.” Mum retorted.
We continued sorting, sweeping and clearing the garage until it got to the stage where there was finally room for Mum to fit her car inside. “That’s much better.” Mum said as she admired the clean, orderly garage. “Well done kids.”
