Oh, God!
Harry!
Whatever's the matter?
Had a bad day?
Bad day, I should say I have.
I can't get my hat off.
Oh, don't be daft.
I am not being daft.
I can't get my blooming hat off, I tell you.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
I've had to wear it all day, feeling like a complete idiot.
Oh, come here, let me try.
Oh, God!
Don't do that!
You take half the skin off me, furry.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
Whatever's the matter, Daddy?
Has your head suddenly swollen or something?
Don't you look over the top of your wretched book at me like that, Matilda Wormwood.
I don't trust you.
It must be super glue.
What sort of glue?
They'll teach you to go playing around with nasty stuff like that.
I wasn't.
I expect you was trying to stick another feather in your hat.
I haven't touched the flaming stuff.
You should read the label on the tube before you start messing with dangerous products.
What in heaven's name are you talking about, you stupid witch?
There's a boy down the road who got some superglue on his finger without knowing it, and then he put his finger to his nose.
Oh yeah?
So what happened to him?
The finger got stuck inside his nose for a whole week and people kept saying to him stop picking your nose.
So's him right.
He shouldn't have put his finger up there in the first place.
Filthy habit.
Grown-ups do it too, Mummy.
I saw you doing it yesterday in the kitchen.
That's quite enough from you.
Yes, be quiet.
What's for tea?
Put the telly on, Michael.
Get a horse.
Get a horse.
I can't have my shower!
Oh, I'm sorry, oh dear, I'll have never.
And what exactly is the matter?
Oh, I've never seen such a funny sight.
Skinny little you, scogging around in your purple striped pyjamas with your hat on.
Well, thank you for your sympathy.
Oh, come on.
See the funny side.
You've got to admit, looking like that, you're hardly the kind of man a wife dreams about.
Well, I can't help it, can I?
Oh, come on, Harry.
Settle down.
Stop fussing.
I expect it'll be loose by the morning and it'll slip off easily.
Oh, yeah?
If not, then I'll have to take the scissors to it.
You what?
Come on, get some sleep.
Well, it's all really well for you.
Proper turn-up for the books, this is.
It's still stuck.
What?
Where?
It still won't come off.
What's going on?
What's the matter?
It's still stuck, I tell you.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
I thought World War III had started.
Hold still and I'll get the scissors.
I don't know that that's such a good idea.
Here we are.
Steady.
Steady.
Ouch!
Oh, God, careful what you're doing, woman.
Hang on.
I've done the top.
Now for the brim.
Ah!
I'm going to have to chop the hair a bit round the sides.
Ow!
Oh, blimey, watch out!
I can't help it.
I've got to chop great handfuls of hair off.
It's the only way.
I'll be a laughing stock.
Here we go.
Done.
Ah!
There's a big bald rim all round me head.
It'll grow.
I look like a monk.
I had to cut the hair where the glue was, I tell you.
But what about these patches of stuff on me forehead?
That was where the glue was stuck straight onto your skin.
But it's disgusting.
It's all brown and leathery.
It'll wear off.
Come and have some breakfast.
Take your mind off it.
Daddy?
Pasta milk, Michael?
Daddy.
More toast, Harry?
Don't mind if I do.
Daddy.
What?
You must try and get those little bits off your forehead.
I know.
I know.
I'm not stupid.
It's just that it looks well as though you've got little brown insects crawling about all over you.
Eat your breakfast.
People will think you've got lice.
Be quiet.
Just keep your nasty mouth shut, will you?
Of course I longed for my parents to be loving and understanding, but I just had to put up with the fact that they were not.
After the hat episode, my father was less cocky and unbearable for several days, but it wasn't long before there was another flare-up.
I'm home!
