...One Christmas they all came to our home in Islington; also an upstairs flat. My Dad always tried to make us laugh by pretending to walk into the edge of the door, banging his foot on the bottom as he held his face and rubbed his nose.
Dad had dressed up as a white-faced clown, in a costume made by Mum on the sewing machine out of an old sheet. He had a frill round his neck, and black pom-poms down his front. I didn’t recognise him as my Dad with his big red nose and his large red lips, painted on in greasepaint. When he rolled around the floor with my cousin Stan on top, jumping all over him, I cried. It wasn’t because I was frightened that he looked strange - although it had been a shock when I first saw him - but I thought he was being hurt, as I knew he suffered rheumatism badly after his time in the trenches...
In this wonderful episode of her life story Eileen Perrin tells of the never-to-be-forgotten delights of family Christmas gatherings. To read earlier chapters of Eileen's story please click on As Time Goes By in the menu on this page.
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