I’m awfully sorry. I was supposed to post this yesterday, but I was caught up in work too much. Besides that, Ms Irwin from next doors invited herself over for a cup of tea at 22.30. She can be worse than a Jehovah’s Witness sometimes; she was in before I had even had the chance to tell her I was actually quite busy and didn’t really have the time. It’s amazing how that woman can talk for hours on end and still have nothing much to say. Mum would have probably said that this woman got injected with record player needles. I have never understood what she meant by that.
Well, I never became as good a boxer as Rocky Balboa, but at least it got me a little into shape. I lost the extra pounds and even though I never got really thin or slim – which wasn’t my goal in the first place – I got into shape and I don’t mean that bag-of-potatoes shape. I liked boxing, even though it didn’t last very long. I guess a couple of months and when thing started getting serious I started getting seriously injured. That was when I figured it was time to throw in the towel.
Mum was relieved, Grandma couldn’t care less. She was still madly deeply in love with Rocky and I still can’t believe that she even tried sending him a package. If it hadn’t been for Mum, she would have. Mum found the package in the kitchen the other day and asked Grandma whom it was for. When Grandma ducked all of Mum’s questions like a boxing champ, she got a little suspicious. When Mum opened it she found a love letter inside, some sexy silken underwear (which had probably been worn), and some photos of Grandma. As Mum didn’t want to show them to me, my guess is that they were not just pictures of Grandma in her Sunday best. The only thing missing in the box was Grandma herself. The reason for this being that Grandma didn’t have a bigger box.
It is said that boxing is good for your self-esteem. I don’t know how much is true about this. I lost a lot of weight, but gained bruises, broken bones, black eyes and I guess if I hadn’t quit it would have cost me some brain cells, too. To some respect, I missed my chubby body at times. Some people were really surprised with the way I looked and they complimented me with it. It made me feel better, but it also made me shyer than ever. I had never gotten so many compliments so when suddenly people started complimenting me, being the socially awkward guy I was, I just didn’t know what to say. I would give an uncertain smile and nod a little. I guess I still do that.
One more thing and then I’m off. Somebody asked me about this and at the moment I am wondering what ever did happen. When school started after summer holiday I sort of, kind of, missed the old Evelyn. Not the new unrecognisable wench that had taken over Evelyn’s body overnight. Rumours had it the family went to Liverpool, but those were only rumours. Others said they had taken Evelyn to an exorcist to exercise the demons. I guess demons need exercising, too. I could have recommended the parents a good boxing school, but they never bothered to ask me. A good knuckle sandwich in those days might have just knocked some sense into that woman again and I would gladly volunteered for it. Evelyn in I never kept in touch, not after the way she had been behaving. Maybe we’ll meet again at a reunion or something. Who knows!?
Thanks for reading and see me tomorrow.