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Elphinstone Kist   Doric Prose, Education, Family and Home, Health

Grounded     by: Blackhall, Sheena

It wis jist lyin there, in its wee gold box, pinky-peachy colour, April Glow, £3.99... jist lyin there, the same lipstick Donna an Sharon use, Sanny, the very same. £3.99. Christ, it cud've been £399, it wis fower times my pocket money. An I winted it that bad, Sanny, I wis desperate fur it, an it lyin there like a magnet, willin me tae takk it. An the chemist wadna hae missed it, he's got hunners o lipsticks, no jist ane ... an aa the top models weir lipstick, it's nae like I'm jist a wee lassie noo, I really NEEDED yon lipstick.

Onyroad, ae meenit it's lyin there, beggin me tae lift it, next it's in ma haun. An NEXT ma ma's haulin me up tae the coonter like a bag o dirty washin, bawlin so's the hale shop could hear -
“See this thievin bizzim o a dother o mine? I catched her bonnie, richt in the act. You apologize tae the nice lady, an maybe she'll let ye aff an nae phone the police.”
I tell ye Sanny, nae jokin, I wished the flair could hae opened its mou an swallaed us baith. Aa the road hame, on an on she girned like a cracked record. She's got a tongue on her that could flay a rhinocerous twelve mile thick fin she's roozed.
“An there'll be nae Sharon an nae Donna, an nae disco Setterday nicht,” she telt me. “Yer grounded.Tarry fingers dinna deserve treats."

Treats? Yon's rich. Honest, Sanny, I'm gled I'm grounded. Last week Donna took alang a bottle o Irn Bru tae the disco, filled wi vodka. We drank it roon the back o the ootside lavvies, an Sharon puked aa doon her Garfield T-shirt.
“Och go on”, she said. “Try it”, she said. “Are ye a wimp or fit?” she said.
Stitch Higgins frae the high-rise flats tried it first, a big glug doon, an passed it tae Jimmy McPhail, him wi the plooks an the spider tattooed on his heid. Weel ye dinna wint tae be different, dae ye? So I took it, Sanny, bit it tasted flat an soor like dog pee, an I spat it oot.

“Awa an bang the drum wi the Sally Army,” cries Jimmy McPhail.
An Donna chips in “Awa hame an play wi yer dollies, Mary Duthie. Dis yer ma ay wipe yer nose an dicht yer bum fur ye?”

Efter a wee while, Donna started actin the goat, actin sexy, actin hard, an I wis gettin a wee bit feart in the dark roon the back o the hut, wi Stitch and Jimmy gettin a bit drunk, an a bit wild. Sharon started tae bubble an greet fur naethin an her mascara ran doon wi the bubbles like the Niagara Falls. I telt them ma da wid belt me fin he fan oot I'd bin drinkin, an that I'd love tae bide, bit he'd be waitin up fur me. I ken yon wis a lee, bit ye see Sanny,I dinna wint Donna an Sharon tae think we're nae a REAL faimly. An we EESED tae be, so it's half true... Ye can keep a secret Sanny, nae like some. Onywye, if da wis wi us, I'd hae plenty money,stacks o't... I could've bocht yon lipstick NAE hassle.

I hate haein vouchers fur school claes an weirin shit ooto Oxfam, an Mrs Jenson on the school denners kens I'm on frees, bit she she ay rings up her till, an makks me say it in front o aabody. I stopped takkin school denners, bit ma catched me raidin the fridge.
“Hiv ye got worms, or a bottomless pit fur a belly?” she asked. “I get Income Support tae feed ae bairn, nae ten thoosan.”

I dinna tell fowk we're on the welfare it's affrontin, like yer poor or a sponger. So I canna bring ma pals hame, Sanny. They think I bide in a trendy hoose wi a dishwasher, an a microwave, an a video, an a mountain bike, an fitted carpets an a da that works in the ile. An sometimes, Sanny, it jist sorta happens... the bed gets a wee bit niffy, a wee bit weet.

I hide ma nightie, bit ma ay finds it.
“God yer a fule wee vratch,” she says. “A big lassie like you, piddlin hersel like a littlin.”
I'd raither she skelped me, Sanny, an shut her mou, she makks me feel that glekit. See, naebody iver asked ME fit I winted. Ae day it wis da, ma, an Mary, the next it wis jist Mary an ma. It's like gettin baith yer legs amputated, it caas the feet fae ye losin yer da, yer pals, yer schule, aa at ae whack. Like haein yer heid cut aff wi the guillotine - ae meenit ye see the warld, the next, aa ye see's the fit o the basket.

“Och, ye'll sune adjust,” ma said, “A young thing like you.”
Bit it's like teeth-ache Sanny, sometimes I miss da that sair, like bein a dolly that's lost its frock an hair.
“Da caad me his wee princess,” I telt ma ae day.
“Ay, well yer aff yer throne noo,” she said.
Ye see, he made me feel SPECIAL Sanny..Aabody should be special tae
SOMEBODY, that's fit I say..Fin I get merriet I'll hae a big white weddin like Princess Diana, an a microwave, an a video, an real Nike trainers, an a Scotlan' shell suit, an a spiral perm, an holidays in the Costa Brava.
“Costa fortune", says ma ma. "Ye've as muckle sense as yer faither, an God kens yon's nae much. Yer heid's that far in the clouds it's a winner ye dinna get sun-stroke.”

Donna's da takks her bowlin on Setterday efterneen, an lets her help dig the gairden an gies her money fin her ma's nae lookin. He papered her room hissel, an let her choose the paper an gied her a wee white poodle caad Peppy.
“Ging an bide wi Donna's da if he's that brilliant," ma said. “Dis he iron his ain shirts anna? Or mebbe he weirs a wee white goun wi wings an a halo.”

Ye see? Ye see? There's nae gettin the better o my ma, she's an answer fur aathin. I hope ye dinna mind, Sanny, I telt Donna an Sharon ye wis a teenage Ninja terrapin. I mean... dinna get me wrang, yer the best hamster a body cud hae. Ye are. Ye're jist a wee stoater... bit I maun hae SOMETHING that's different, if I'm gaun tae be the same's aa the rest ......



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