Dig for victory

I came home on a Sunday lunchtime having worked 6 half days this week My Mother asked me to take jug of tea to my dad on his allotment (newly acquired).

Father was a man who was not afraid of manual work. He was doing quite well turning over the fresh soil to produce food for our war effort.

He was pleased to see me, especially with the jug of tea.

“Keep your eyes open,” he said. “There have been courting couples rolling around on the ground and they haven’t noticed the money falling out of their pockets. See if you can find any to pick up.” Being a dutiful son I obeyed my Father’s wishes and picked up various coins of different denominations.

We went home and I had a chat with my mother while Dad was in the bedroom changing out of his gardening trousers. I produced the money we had found.

With a burst of consternation Dad came into the room and said “I’ve got a bloody great hole in my pocket. All the money is actually mine”.

Like a dutiful son I retuned my share.

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