Growing up in the 1980s, my sister and I spent a lot of time at our grandma’s house, as our mum was single and coping with us both while trying to support us by working too. Her mum was a typical grandma, soft and indulgent and very slow to anger. But one memorable day, I found out that even grandma’s patience had its limits!
I was six at the time, and my sister Beth was 12. It was a rainy day, I remember, that meant that unlike most days at Grandma’s house, we weren’t able to go outside and run off that excess energy which children build up so easily. Beth settled down to some drawing in her art book, but I loped around the house looking for something to do.