…and if you try you’ll never win!

Back in 1987, aged 7, 6 of us piled into a Fiat Uno and travelled from Blackpool to our new home in Norwich (luckily Dad was already there and my youngest brother wasn’t born otherwise it would have been a real squeeze). At that point in my life I had no comprehension that I was different to anyone else my age.

The day I started my new school, this changed.

It would seem that I talked differently to my classmates and they thought it was really funny ( I think they were also secretly laughing at my fringe). I spoke really quickly (still do) and they couldn’t understand me. It was horrible.

Instead of changing however I have always done everything I can to keep my accent, it is my connection with my roots and can be a talking point in the pub. I like the fact that it makes me different and I’m so glad I don’t have an awful Norfolk twang like others in “Narrridge”! I have always been teased, but then I have always come back with the same response when being told I’m pronouncing Glass incorrectly – “there is no R in it!”

As J learned to talk he picked up on the different ways my husband and I pronounce bath and has always played along with the joke that if mummy is bathing him it’s a “bath” and if it’s Daddy it’s a “barth”.

But now my time has finally come! There can no longer be any arguments. J is learning to read, and sound out new words

b…a…th, p…a…th, g…l…a…ss

No barth round our way any more!

In your face!

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