Cousin Carole

We have my ( older) cousin Carole staying for the weekend. She is a delightful person, full of chat, who sadly lost her husband some months ago and her 93 year old father ( qv Uncle Willie has died) within the last two months.
The really nice thing is we are chatting about things from our childhood, and about our other cousins. One forgets so much from what , in our case, was a magical time, filled with fun, sun and love. I accept we lived in a privileged atmosphere, but I know many others from the same era, without the privilege, who equally enjoyed the time.
I believe that the reason it was enjoyable was the lack of reponsibility. It's wonderful to know if you scrape a knee somebody will wash it and bandage it ( not forgetting the Dettol -ouch!), call you in to eat at appropriate times, put your clothes out and make sure you change your knickers. Nowadays, of course, we are all too concerned with Bird Flu and Global warming to have time for fun. No wonder so many of Britain's town centres are no go areas at night with young people completely out of their skulls - they are drinking to forget.
Actually, putting the clothes out has a thread running up to the present day. I am not noted for my dress sense . I had my first pair of long trousers at 12, brown cords, bought in Jenners, and I haven't progressed much since. I am also slightly colour blind and therefore have no real idea of what goes together. Mrs. Lear despairs of me. She recently upbraided me with the line " Honestly, you dress so badly, I expect your mother put your clothes out for you when you were a little boy!"
At my somewhat sheepish look, she sighed deeply, gathered some alternative clothes and put them on my chair. She wandered off muttering to herself " It's true, men are just little boys at heart."