This was way back in 1961.
Between the backdoor of our house and the toilet was the coal shed. So the toilet was the furthest door from the house. I avoided going out there at night as much as possible, going as early in the evening as possible. This wasn’t too difficult as I was in bed by 7pm. I always made sure I went before going to bed, just in case! It was the typical brick built affair, room to go in and close the door. Just enough room to turn around and plenty of room for a 5 year old.
This particular afternoon, just before tea, I was sat on the toilet when a sharp motion to my right got my attention. Nothing there but a wall and I put my left hand up in front of me. I was struck by a brick. It hit me right in the middle of my palm causing some bruising and a circular cut where the corner of the brick penetrated my skin. I felt a little silly and confused. Had I not put my hand up, it would have missed me. I was a little frightened by what had happened, but looking back, not as much as I would have thought. I finished in the toilet, and went in search of my mother. She cleaned my hand up and had to put a large plaster across the palm of my hand simply because a small one would just have fallen off. She was somewhat concerned by what had happened because I was convinced that it was a big spider in the wall. The only way, at that age, I could go some distance to explain what had happened. Mum believed that, for some reason and somehow I had pulled the brick out of the wall to play with it. Come to that – I hadn’t been afraid of spiders up until this point. I can now, these days tolerate their presence.
Subject: Not a spider in the bath story 
Sun Aug 26, 2007 11:04 pm
