Good Old Fashioned

Just once

I ate a pound of onions yesterday. Pickled ones to be precise. One after one I popped them in my mouth and went on doing so long after the chips and bread and butter had run out. Munch munch, crunch crunch, vinegar all the way. And before you ask, no I'm not pregnant.
I didn't mean to buy them even. But they insinuated their way into my shopping trolley. Then sat large as life in the basket of my scooter and after a short spell on the counter while the chips cooked they became supper. Before you could say Bob's your uncle or grandfather or whatever the saying is 1lb jar of pickled onions had been demolished- by me.
I binged on cadburys cream eggs once. Ate five one after the other. But i've never eaten a lot of pickled onions. Not until today anyway. Still can't quite
believe I did it. But the empty jar is staring at me, no UFO has landed recently and my cat only likes Sheba so it must have been me.
No doubt my care worker come psychiatrist will find a deep seated reason for the behaviour. All part of a troubled youth. Number 1 onion was the teacher who told me I was a waste of space. Number 2 was the cousin who touched me up. Number 3 was the neighbour who swore every time my tennis ball landed in his garden , number 4...... Thing is I don't even like pickled onions. Or pickled eggs for that matter. Still give me something to tell them down at the centre won't it? Or maybe I won't tell them. Maybe it's because its new years eve. Maybe I'm lonely and it's a cry for help. Maybe I am secretly wishing I could go and get pickled at a party. But it's not like John Nettles is going to knock on the door any time soon and take me somewhere exciting is it. Do like him. Shame he attracts so many dead people though.
Still it's a bit of a peculiar thing to do. But then I've done a few peculiar things lately. Perhaps it's my age. By my reckoning I'll be 84 in March. Well at least I'll have something to put out for the recycle man. A glass jar. I wonder what colour box it goes in? I have a feeling the binman is going to be ever so pleased. He always looks a bit sad when he hasn't got any boxes to collect from my gate. Maybe that was why I bought them just to make the bin man happy. Or maybe it's that dementera thing everyone keeps talking about. I think only old people get that though so can't be that.
Anyway Corrie will be on soon. Real friends they are- every Monday, Wednesday,Friday they come round. Haven't seen Annie Walker for a while mind you.
Reckon she must be taking a break. Or maybe she has got locked in the cellar at the Rovers? She really does need to get back on duty soon though. Call me old fashioned but I do struggle with all that jumping in and out of bed they seem to do. Hard to keep up with whose going out with who half the time, but they are a good hearted lot and well it would be fun to be naughty wouldn't it.
Just once!