The slang of “Thank you” is “Tar“. So, I find this recollection from Mother’s school days so endearing. It is as if she was saying “Thank you for lettin’ me play outside, instead of sitting still in your stifling, oppressive classroom“.
Just like myself, my mother seem to have spent most of her youth in trouble for just being herself. She was often sent out in the playground banished or alone in the school corridors. Mother said that on one hot summer day, while out in the playground, she wrote her name with a stick she had dipped in the hot tar from the pavement. No longer a school, the old brick building is now a private run nursery. As you can see, I went along and asked if I could find my mothers writing and yes it was still there. The writing on the wall with the tar is still quite visible, see:
Tomorrow I’ll share what she did with tissue.
One thought on “Tar”
I have a soft spot for young rebels. I enjoyed this story and photo.
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