Colour prejudice

It's going to be one of those days today I think.

Dad's just gone into town, we live in the country, so he will be all shouty and sweary when he comes back. He always is.

Anyway, I can have some peace and quiet while he's out. Dad likes peace and quiet when he's working on his 'puter, so do I.

I have begun to learn about colour. I've not noticed before. That's one of the best things about being 8 months old; there's always something new and exciting to think about every day.

Most things are green. the trees are a a browny grey. The ground is dusty pinky. I can see a bit of yellow on the bananas and some spots of red, pink and purple on the flower tips but mostly they are white. My dad is right; there is no blue. Except the things that should not be blue. Like the roof on the policeman's house in the village, the plastic water pipes and my new shoes.

My dad's great for wanting things banned. But Heir Hitler never bans the things he says should be.

"They spend all their time banning people for smoking in the pub, and the newspapers for telling everyone who they are shagging." He says. "But not for making things the wrong colour." He thinks people can't be trusted to choose the right colour so they should not have the choice.

If that was true, mum would have bought me pink shoes. So for once I think he may be right.

We went to Gary and Manchester's house once. dad says we won't be going back there again.
"I had to put my sunglasses on when I go in, not when I come out." he said. "It's a kaleidoscope."

It was such a big word for him to use that I had to look it up in the dictionary, the dictionary he never uses, to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. Well, he had and he hadn't.

I can see how he got it wrong but it actually comes from two Greek words, mixed together meaning 'beautiful form' and in no way describes Gary's house.

TROUSER TROUBLE

dad's just got back from the market. I thought he'd shout at me for being on the 'puter and I'd have to sign off quick but he's just huffy and puffy and picking all the pockets off the new trousers he's just bought.

"Can't find a bloody pair of bloody trousers without a bloody hundred pockets on them." I told you he'd be all sweary, didn't I?

I better go now anyway. He needs a cuddle. besides, I'm not wearing my 'dryper' pants and am dying for a wee.