That’s My Boy, by David Milner

I was six, and I remember me and dad had to get to the Accident and Emergency quick. It was a short journey by bus. I was kind of okay, but dad was worried in case the place was packed out. Mum had the car that night, manageress of a supermarket, she was working a late shift. We arrived at the hospital and things weren’t so bad: the odd bandaged head, a man and woman singing...

“Is your son hurt? The receptionist inquired,

Somewhat affronted I replied, “Our hamster bit my dad.”

I’ll never forget the look she gave me.