when we were young

My Mum had a big tobacco tin full of buttons when we were young. One of those old "Export A" tins. There was a girl on the front of it, wearing a beret, feather flapping in the breeze. It made a righteous rattle when she pulled it down from the cupboard. It was a big deal, that tin! We got to choose a button from it if we'd helped tidy up, or been polite, done a task, or just been no bother for twenty minutes.

We saved them up, in a bowl, under each of our beds. From time to time we'd indulge in a bit of trading. Shrewd was my brother. It went sideways one night and Mum confiscated all our buttons. We had to start over.

Then he raided our button bowls when he thought we were asleep! My sister screamed bloody murder! I sobbed.

We're all still much the same.

I've booked off work next week. I'm making a list of things I've got to do. I shall give myself three big buttons if I get my 2013 tax return done. (my brother will be vexed).