Colour Me In: Part 2

Read Part 1 here. Honestly, I didn't even remember what I had written. So, I imagine you'll have to give it a glance over to reacquaint yourself...

Growing up, I had heard the story of how my parents had met a thousand different times. All of them varying just slightly. As stories do. Some details changing, embellished, forgotten. But the main plot remained the same.

My Mum was eighteen and my Dad was twenty-six. A difference in age, but one that was met with my mother's maturity and my father's proclivity for enjoying practical jokes. They were both at a health and safety course, or at least "before health and safety went mad" as my father so eloquently put it.

The course began with the usual setup - how it would run, what was expected of those who undertook it - the whole shebang. My father had thought the whole thing... dull. I guess. So he decided to fake his own death in one of the scenarios the tutor set-up. Everyone else (understandably) thought he was a complete twat. My mother? Well, she found it hilarious. Thus, me, and my older siblings were brought into this world.

There's three of us. Marianne, she's 20. Then Alex at 16. Then there's me, Rita, at 10. They seemed to like to space things out, my parents. There were never any firm decisions for them. Some of the lucky ones, as they put it. But I didn't really see it that way.