dad - julie
My Dad had a dent in his head. In the 1940s before I was born he had an operation to remove a
tumour and part of his skull went with it. It’s amazing he survived.
As a child, I would sit on his knee and carefully comb his hair over the dent.
By the time I was a teenager he was going grey and thin on top. He became self-conscious of his
dent.
One day he arrived home with a curly grey wig on his head. My sister and I rolled around in hysterics, my mum more concerned that he’d travelled home on the bus wearing it. Dad started to laugh too.
In one swift movement, exclaiming, "bleddy thing" he yanked it off his head and flung it across the room. It
scuttered across our lino floor and lay like a disgruntled cat in the corner, never to adorn his head
again.
Julie Lovatt is a retired Children and Family worker and avid crafter from Leicester.
If you have a tiny narrative to share please get in touch at thetinynarrative@gmail.com