Turning 8 ‘a tangle of boys’

 

Wow, not 7 anymore, now I am 8 and obviously grown up.  Grown up enough to have heckled Dad for months to drive myself and a around 8 others to Luna Park where fairy floss and hot dogs could be consumed all at once before rides which hopefully would not tempt the contents of my stomach to deliver the second coming.

It all started well until Dad’s company car died and he was presented with a Hillman Minx as a temporary replacement.  The Minx was half the size.  No longer could we fit 5 kids across the back bench seat with Dad and another 4 smelly boys in the front. No seat belts – no issue.

But in the spirit of collective insanity 8 boys were delivered to our home by not-so-keen fathers after seeing the magnificent Minx.

We all fitted.  The back seat became a veritable tangle of 6 boys all practicing for the national ‘passing of wind’ competition.  An experience to remember.  Needless to say Dad’s window was always down as he inched his nostrils towards clean air freedom and he had another 3 boys with him in the front determined also to keep the ‘passing of wind’ practice alive or, dead.  Something must have died in the car, surely.

Still we got to Luna Park and spilled out of the Minx only to be confronted by, ‘heaven’.  Hot dogs, fairy floss and coke all to be consumed at once and at speed in the hope for more of the same.   Then the ghost boat ride which frightened the crap out of us but never never admitted it followed by the spinning room where the floor disappeared whilst we were glued to the wall and then the Big Dipper.  Stomach, not too bad but tender.  Next, the moving floor required balance and lots of personal movement.  This spelt trouble but bravado won through. Sort of.

Dad, in his infinite wisdom, could see the complexion change of 9 boys from sort of suntanned to ghostly pale and he knew it had nothing to do with the ghost train.  Oops. The inside of the borrowed Minx was in trouble.  Funny how 9 smelly boys went quiet-ish.

I remember Dad asking us, with smirk, if we wanted anything more to eat and we just looked at him in disbelief.  Couldn’t he see we were slowly dying?

After a brief colour returning respite sitting on the footpath outside Luna Park we bundled back into the mighty Minx for the ride home.  The out of control very loud tangle had turned into a messy but quiet jumble looking forward to standing on solid not moving ground.  

What a day!  Turning 8 with a bang and that memory has survived 69 years.  Wahoo.