Pigs will fly if Dad wins the pools . . .

EVERY Saturday evening, the football results were on the radio for people to check their pools results, so my brother and i had to be quiet while Dad checked them. He never won — until one particular Saturday.

my mum was going to make some brawn, so she’d bought half a pig’s head. it was sitting on a plate on the table and she was about to start preparing it when my dad shouted: ‘We’ve come up on the pools!’

He got up, did a little dance around the table, with me doing the same, then he gathered up the pig’s head and did a little dance with that. then he tossed it in the dustbin.

He said: ‘We don’t have to eat that kind of food again.’ He was going to buy a racehorse. i was going to Hollywood to buy a dress like they wore in the musicals. i could choose any one i liked.

my brother — oh, he wanted to play in goal for england. my mum just wanted a quiet life.

my dad sat down and checked it again. no, he didn’t have 24 points. not even 23. He jumped up as though he was in a rugby tackle and got the pig’s head out of the bin, washed it under the tap, and my mum carried on making brawn.

He never lost hope — he still went on saying: ‘When i come up on the pools, i’m going to buy a racehorse.’ Funny thing was, no one up our street ever won the pools!

Rita Poole, Worcester.