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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 11 (February 1, 1937)

Baby Comes Clean

Baby Comes Clean.

“Look here, mum and dad, cut the cackle and get down to crusts! It's all very well for you to go about blowing up your chests and spilling the beans about me. I admit I'm the stork's double-yoker, but what have I got to skite about? What about me? Was I ever consulted about this parent business? No, siree! I just woke up to find my whole future gummed to a pair of burst-tyres like you. It's not fair—'pon my body and soul, ‘tis grossly unjust. The least a baby might expect is a pre-view of his parents and the right of veto. But what do I get? The double-raspberry, that's what I get. Here I am with ninety per cent, of dad's bad habits ready to burst out on me like measles; I inherit Uncle Willie's egg-head, grandpa's bow-legs, Aunt Agatha's anti-streamline chassis, and dad's thirst. Do you call that a fair pop? Talk about the accident of birth! It's a calamity—a calamity with crepe trimmings. You'll have to change—change good and plenty—if you want to be a credit to me. I want to bring you up different. I want to rear you as no other parents ever have been reared. I would like to think that there shall be no mistakes. But when I get an eyefull of pop! I'm amazed at you, mum. How you ever fell for that sap I can't imagine. Of course, I realise that love is blind, and all that, but even a blind woman could sense out that dad's not the full quid. And I've got to be handicapped with him all my life. ‘The sins of the fathers' is right! But I suppose other babies have put up with almost as much and have grown up in spite of their parents. But let me tell you.

page 43
“Boys, they're not much to look at, but can they cough up the mazuma? I'll say—y—y!”

“Boys, they're not much to look at, but can they cough up the mazuma? I'll say—y—y!”

If you want this thing to go over, remember, I'm the boss, and what I say goes—and I don't mean half-goes.”