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Written by Maura Maguire
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Tuesday, 03 May 2005 |
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My brother P J was notorious for his obsession for
unscrewing things.
One particular day
when I offered to take the baby out for a stroll in his pram, I suddenly
learned how lethal P J’s tinkering could be. It was not until the pram was angled off the horizontal, literally when
I took it off the footpath’s kerb in order to cross the road that I discovered
what he had been up to!
At that point the body of the pram parted company with
its wheels; P J had undone the screws fixing it in place.
I managed to reunite the two parts but still there was
no way to hold it secure. As quickly as
I could I returned the pram to the house. I ran hell for leather round to my aunt’s house with my tale of
woe.
When my mother went to pull the pram over the
threshold, the same thing as before happened. She recognised who the culprit was and he was duly punished.
My mother was angry with me for abandoning the pram outside
without offering an explanation. It was
only through the good offices of my father that I escaped with a mere ‘telling
off’.
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Reminiscence 
