Raising August

Augustine Wilton

Daily Prompt: Traditional

Ours wasn’t a traditional house hold. It was Dad who got me off to school, took me to ballet and attended my parent teacher interviews. Then when Poppa moved in with us permanently he shared child rearing duties with dad. I was twelve and I think dad and mum where both relieved to have another set of hands on deck for my teenage years. I wasn’t a wild child really – but there were six teenage boys growing up right next door.

It wasn’t that mum wasn’t around; she was a wonderful mum and my best friend. It was just that she worked really long hours at the college, and it was work that didn’t stop when she got home. Dad and poppa ran Belmont Taylor’s from a studio in the back garden and could more conveniently care for me, we were a well-oiled machine, the four of us — I guess I became the product of a very quirky upbringing.

It seemed normal to me to look out from my dance recital and see dad and poppa looking up at me from their seats – full of pride, poppa wiping away tears, pretending he had something in his eye. Mum would usually race in at the last minute, smiling and waving at me madly, as she stepped on people’s toes and caught her jacket on their chairs in a rush to take her seat with the two men in my life. Sometimes she would miss my part in the dance, but I never doubted how hard she tried to get there. These were my people, my crazy funny people.

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