Tiny Kettle

Duration: 2:59 minutes
Accession No: TWCMS : 2009.584
This story has been viewed 9267 times

Stuart's story is about what happens to a family home when the children in the family start to grow and move out.

By Sturart Moore

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Video transcript

Well, that's my life over. Don't be ridiculous, they've just moved out. They're grown up.

When my brother flew the nest last week, my Dad seemed to be at a bit of a loose end. Though my younger sister still lives at home, me and my two brothers are now out in the big wide world, and the family home that was once loud and full is now quiet and calm.

There were times when I'm sure my Dad might have wished for this peace and quiet...birthday party after birthday party, Christmas after Christmas, fight after dramatic cardboard wearing fight...Locking the shed didn't stop us doing what we shouldn't...We were even put away in a cupboard at one point...

As the years passed, me and my brothers swapped evenings with my parents for nights out in town. I imagine sitting up at 2:30 in the morning, waiting for three inebriated sons to return is not a parent's favourite past-time.

Looking around the house now, I see lots of clues of our childhood.

Now that we've left, other things have taken our place. Like vitamins. Lots of vitamins. Raspberry conserve replaces no-bits jam, spaghetti hoops and custard make way for posh olive oil, and in the fridge, soya milk and activia now rule where once the cheese triangle was king.

National trust magazines, Boat periodicals and Carpenter CDs are now seen as appropriate reading and listening materials, while skyplus and Bergerac are happy bedfellows.

You know your childhood home is disappearing when your football trophies are replaced by ornamental plates featuring windmills and saucy dames from centuries past, and your parents start getting notes from people with names like 'Margaret'.

I know that our growing up has changed our house, but the happy memories are still there. Memories of getting close to the fish my Dad would catch (sometimes too close), and watching the horror on his face (my Dad's face, not the fish) as his son dressed as a girl. More than once.

Thankfully for all parties concerned, sudocrem is a distant memory. Though a seemingly near naked childhood means that it did have its place.

The day after my brother moved out, the kettle broke. ''Might as well get a tiny one,'' my Dad grumbled. That didn't go down well with my Mum. And besides, they can't do that. I now work down the road, my first brother has a son who loves visiting his Nana and Granda, and my second brother is extremely fond of his Mum's cooking.

A family home doesn't stop being so, it just grows with it's family. And it can never have a tiny kettle.

What a brilliant story. Lovely memories. Funny. Well told. Great!Posted on 08/03/2011 at 02:05:39

Great storyPosted on 06/04/2011 at 11:40:22

Beautiful story! I believe a lot of people around the world misjudge English people saying they are cold. I am Brazilian and my boyfriend is English and I must admit that I more warmth in his family than in mine. Posted on 28/08/2012 at 14:32:46

* That I found more warmth... Posted on 28/08/2012 at 14:33:31

Brilliant story. I loved it.Posted on 03/09/2012 at 22:05:27

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