Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $9.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Growing up in the 1970's
    Growing up in the 1970's
    Growing up in the 1970's
    Ebook76 pages1 hour

    Growing up in the 1970's

    By Cameron Thompson

    4/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    I had a very strict Christian upbringing, and partly because of this, I developed an ability to hide a lot of the things that I used to get up to from my parents.

    This book is a collection of true stories and annecdotes from when I grew up in the 1970's.

    It includes: My first memories as a child, from making mud-pies to kissing the girl next door. Making out with my first ever girlfriend as a teenager, shark fishing in America, being beaten up by Football hooligans, my first party in my own little cottage.

    I hope you enjoy reading my tales!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCameron Thompson
    Release dateFeb 26, 2013
    ISBN9781301598991
    Growing up in the 1970's
    Author

    Cameron Thompson

    Cameron Thompson is in his early 50's and lives in a 400 year old cottage in South East England with his wife, three children & three cats! Cameron has tended to write mainly, true, short stories about his life, either growing up, or usually hilarious things that have happened to him over the years. His first true short story is "A weekend at the Monaco Grand Prix" He has just published a collection of hilarious true short Stories entitled 'Growing up in the 70's' which takes you from his very first memories to age 25. He has written several more short stories that he intends to publish here on Smashwords over the next few weeks / months Cameron's writing style is heavily influenced by his favourite all time Author Ernest Hemmingway! He doesn't tend to go for flowery descriptions, however he writes the story so you are gripped, and feel like you actually lived the experience yourself!

    Read more from Cameron Thompson

    Related to Growing up in the 1970's

    Related ebooks

    Personal Memoirs For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      In The Wilds Of Alaska

      Jul 26, 2023

      In The Wilds Of Alaska
      3 min read

    • Article

      PB&J: AN AMERICAN LOVE STORY

      Nov 1, 2023

      PB&J: AN AMERICAN LOVE STORY
      2 min read

    • Article

      Kiwi Twins’ Anorexia Nightmare ‘We Starved Ourselves To Stand Out’

      Dec 12, 2021

      Auckland twins Libby and Madi Schipper may look identical, both work in the health and wellness industry, and finish one another’s sentences. But while the 26-year-old sisters now revel in their similarities, past comparisons saw them develop the dev

      4 min read

    • Article

      Shanda

      Jan 1, 2024

      Shanda
      13 min read

    • Article

      Counter Waves

      Oct 23, 2020

      Counter Waves
      8 min read

    • Article

      Little House

      Jun 5, 2023

      On Monday nights our mother made popcorn and served it to us in mugs with milk poured over. My younger sister and I carried our mugs into the family room and ate the popcorn with spoons, like cereal. We were five and seven. Until we were allowed to s

      21 min read

    • Article

      I’ll Be There

      Oct 25, 2019

      I’ll Be There
      7 min read

    • Article

      Death Becomes Her

      Jan 21, 2022

      Death Becomes Her
      8 min read

    • Article

      The Birthday Party

      Dec 3, 2023

      The Birthday Party
      9 min read

    • Article

      Alan Cumming

      Nov 1, 2021

      Alan Cumming
      5 min read

    • Article

      Home For The Holidays

      Aug 10, 2021

      It’s been a year since I’ve been home. I missed Christmas because of work, so Thanksgiving marks a full lap around the calendar. My mom’s been complaining lately about how difficult things have gotten for her. Everything seemed so out of reach, so im

      7 min read

    • Article

      Mum's The Word

      Apr 4, 2021

      Growing up in a Vietnamese household, food was a primary love language. I have childhood memories of picking the stalks offrau muong(water spinach) beforeMe–my mother – fried it up, and folding filling into pâté chaud pastries with her. When I went v

      5 min read

    • Article

      In the Grass

      Jun 3, 2019

      In the Grass
      23 min read

    • Article

      Ella’s Choice

      Oct 6, 2021

      Ella’s Choice
      7 min read

    • Article

      How Dementia Saved Mum & Me

      Mar 31, 2021

      How Dementia Saved Mum & Me
      5 min read

    • Article

      Heave’s Whisky

      Feb 27, 2024

      Heave’s Whisky
      7 min read

    • Article

      Mothering–The Long Haul by Mandy Nolan

      Mar 4, 2021

      I remember packing my five kids in my Mum van and wondering if I would ever get my life back. The endless shopping, wiping, driving, dropping off, picking up, encouraging, hassling and general micromanaging sometimes made me feel like my head was goi

      3 min read

    • Article

      Princess Bari

      Apr 15, 2019

      Princess Bari
      6 min read

    • Article

      Quarantine Album

      Sep 8, 2020

      It all started with a very simple request: I asked my mom, when she had time, could she look through old photos to see if there were any of pint-size me decked out for Halloween—primo Instagram content for my show Scream, Queen! (a podcast about scar

      4 min read

    • Article

      Henry Winkler

      Jan 8, 2024

      Henry Winkler
      6 min read

    • Article

      Getting Full Marks As She Joins Team Hello! Giovanna Fletcher Brings You Top Tips And Interviews With Royal And Celebrity Friends Ahead Of The New School Year

      Aug 16, 2021

      Getting Full Marks As She Joins Team Hello! Giovanna Fletcher Brings You Top Tips And Interviews With Royal And Celebrity Friends Ahead Of The New School Year
      5 min read

    • Article

      Joanna Scanlan

      May 24, 2021

      A At 16 I was at a very pleasant girls’ boarding school in North Wales. I enjoyed that life, I had bags of fabulous friends – I’ve enjoyed friendship all through my life. Until I was 16 I always took it upon myself to stand up for what I saw as injus

      5 min read

    • Article

      Breaking POINT

      Nov 1, 2022

      Breaking POINT
      6 min read

    • Article

      The MOTHER ODE

      Apr 18, 2022

      The MOTHER ODE
      5 min read

    • Article

      Wild Days

      Jul 27, 2020

      Wild Days
      7 min read

    • Article

      Frog

      Jan 16, 2022

      Frog
      3 min read

    • Article

      Voice Of An Angel

      Sep 15, 2022

      Voice Of An Angel
      5 min read

    • Article

      Night Visions

      Sep 10, 2022

      Night Visions
      6 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Growing up in the 1970's

    4/5

    1 rating0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Growing up in the 1970's - Cameron Thompson

      Growing up in the 1970’s

      Cameron Thompson

      Published by Cameron Thompson]

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2013 Cameron Thompson

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      My very first memory is of shit! Literally, Sigmund Freud would have a field day with me! My earliest memory that I can remember is sitting in the bath as a toddler and shitting small plop plops as I called them at the time. I was quite fascinated by these little brown balls that amazingly appeared from my bottom. They came out perfectly formed, like little brown marbles. I can remember quite clearly the joy of fishing them out of the water and throwing them across the bathroom, and watching them splat on the walls and floor. I can also remember that my mother wasn’t too impressed, and I got taught in no uncertain terms, that throwing your shit around the bathroom was not a good idea!

      My other earliest memory, I am sure has had a profound effect on me for all of my life. I was a little kid of about 4 or 5 years old. I was always desperate to have friends around, and I was always begging my mother to let the other little urchins and playmates that lived down my street come round to my garden and play. Finally my mother relented, and I got to have about four friends from along the street to play with me in my back garden. I was so proud to have them to play. However no sooner had they all arrived, eagerly waiting to make mud pies in the flower beds, than I suddenly had this overpowering urge to go to the toilet. So I made my excuses and disappeared upstairs to sit on the loo.

      What I hadn't reckoned with, is that I would be so constipated, no matter how hard I pushed and pushed, nothing would happen. It was like a miniature version of giving birth, I tried everything, standing up, kneeling over, and pushing my tummy. Eventually after much straining and contorting, I finally was able to deliver the biggest turd of my life. It was so big it stuck out of the water!. I flushed the loo and rushed downstairs to play with my little gang of friends. But much to my shock and horror, there was no-one there, they all run off and gone home! I was devastated!

      When I was about 5 or 6 years old, much to my glee, a really pretty girl and her family moved into the house across the street. Her name was Linda. She was the same age as me, and in no time, we became good friends, and our mothers also got to know each other. Our mothers used to take us out for long walks to the shops in our pushchairs, and as we got back to our street, we used to jump out of our pushchairs and make a dash for my house.

      What our mothers didn’t know, to this day is why we were so keen to run back to my back yard! It was so we could show each other our bits! In particular, she seemed to have a passion for feeling my nuts! I was none too wise about what these things were for, but I had convinced myself that the two small lumps that I could feel in my balls were eggs and that one day they would hatch out into babies.

      As we got to know each other more and more, we would spend most of the time in each other’s houses. So much so that my mum used to put us both in the bath together. I used to think this was fantastic that my mum would put me and my little girlfriend in the bath together! Consequently we seemed to feel it was totally normal to examine each others private parts.

      I can vividly remember hours and hours playing Doctors and nurses with Linda in her bedroom. She would lie on the bed and take her knickers off, and I would pretend to be the doctor and examine her bits in minute detail. Then we would swap roles, and she would be the nurse and examine my bits, it seemed all perfectly normal. If only our mothers knew what we were getting up to!

      I have never been very good at doing what I am told, I am every parent, and every teacher and every boss’s worst nightmare. I can also be very devious, and if I am not allowed to do something, I will try dammed hard to find a way round it.

      I can remember being obsessed with making mud pies in the garden, when I was about 5 years old. There was a really good patch of loose earth underneath an old apple tree in our back garden, and I was hell bent on making mud pies with my bucket and spade that my dad had bought me for our beach holiday. I started carrying buckets of water out of the kitchen and into the back garden, not telling my mum what I was up to. Eventually she came out side and found out what I was up to, I was basically turning the flowerbeds into a beach, digging up the plants to make room for more mud pies. Soon I got shouted at, got a smack, and told that I was to make no more mess and not to make any mud pies. My mum went inside and shut the kitchen door. So what did I do? I waited about ten minutes outside the kitchen wall where the waste water pipe emerged from the sink, and simply put my bucket under the end of this pipe and filled it up with waste water from the sink. I had a fine old afternoon busily making more mud pies as far as the eye could see! Eventually my mum came out and went absolutely nuts, shouted and screamed at me, gave me a smack, and I got sent to my bedroom for the rest of the day!

      I can remember very clearly the first Christmas where I was finally aware of what was going on and was really looking forward to a visit from Santa. We didn’t have stockings, instead we had pillow cases (covers) hung at the end of our beds. I had bunk beds in my room, and I was sharing my room with my Grandma. She had the bottom bunk, and I had the top bunk.

      I must have been about 4

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1