I was my Father's favourite, the longed for son after 2 daughters. I grew to hate it and him. We had a strange household. From my earliest age I can only remember fights and rows between my mum and dad. In our house Mum and my two sisters had one bedroom and Dad and I had another. I realised at an early age I was by far his favourite and I would use it to my advantage. Trouble was he was a bully, both physical and psychological.
My sisters took the physical abuse, not my Mum or me, but it started blazing rows and standoffs, that was the only time they'd speak (I mean shout) then. I've been told in later years Mum did try to leave him with us, but no help was available, asked "Does he beat you", "No then you haven't a problem" was the answer - it was the 1950's. I was totally terrified of him and did everything he told me to do, I was like his trophy son and a "lapdog". He would take me to his mothers (evil nan, as I thought of her), they would run my mum down and I'd have to listen to it and keep quiet. Then he'd make me stay with her and my uncle (he was still living at home), until he came and collect me a day or so later. To be fair my uncle would try to get them to stop. But my father was "evil nan's" favourite and they wouldn't listen to him. I used to pray at night mum and dad would make up and we could live as a normal family. Our dysfunctional family went on like this until I was 10, mum fell ill and Dad stopped slagging mum off, to "evil nan" and anyone else who would listen. Stupid me, I thought my prays had been answered, no one told me mum was dying of pancreatic cancer until it happened. It took about a year, I knew mum was in and out of hospital and there was much whispering by relatives. I queried a few times that I'd heard the word cancer, but I was told I was wrong. When it happened, I remember being in bed at home, I had a cold or some such. My two sisters came and told me mum had died, I called them liars and didn't initially believe them, dear old Dad just wanted to tell me mum had gone away, he was also a moral coward. The above is just a taster of the reasons I hated being his "favourite". To be fair to him he had a charm, those who initially met him liked him, I know this from my "lapdog" period, when I heard everything and said nothing. He had something, he married again and I was no longer a "lapdog", that ended in divorce after she left him for the second time. Then he married for a third time and that wasn't plain sailing either, but she outlasted him. But I know from my "lapdog period" he was two faced and a liar. I finally broke his hold over me when I was 17 and my eldest sister later replaced me as Dad's favourite and she accepted, which was fine by me. I vowed quite early I never want to be like my father, my wife and kids are my life. I honestly believe, I do not have a favourite amongst our kids and I hope they know it. I'm lucky I love them all and I actually like them all and our grandkids, which if it's not down to luck, is due to my true favourite their Mum.
BBC Radio 4Extra Scheduling Shake-Up.
