Tribal

So Vince Cable called the Tories,’ Ruthless, calculating and tribal’ after last week’s elections and they had to agree, actually they took it as a compliment – ‘devour the weak’ seemingly their current motto, (the wheel chair bound protest this week receiving little media or public support due in part to the continued persecution from Mr Cameron – here’s a little test for you what’s the first word you think of when I say ‘benefit’ is it ‘cheat’?) poor Liberal Democrats they really didn’t stand a chance.

I joined my own little tribe to watch the F.A. Cup final, just at home on the telly, but still, certain rituals needed to take place. The baby dressed in full City strip – though the socks had to come off after a while as they were making his eczema flare, me in blue and white stripes to try and embrace the mood, my partner in lucky clover T-shirt and irrationally nervous.

Watching the two hour build up on the telly, my partner fizzy lager in hand began eating a pork pie.

‘I am hungry!’ the four year old said. This is what he always says if someone is eating, or if he spies stray chocolate in the fridge, or if he hears a ice-cream van it doesn’t matter if he has just eaten that second.

‘You can’t have this’ his Dad says.

‘But, I am hungry’ he sings.

‘Darling, you can’t have that it’s made from pigs!’ I bluntly say.

His big eyes widen, ’Real pigs?’

‘Yes’ I say.

‘But pigs are nice......’ he says. Possibly remembering our last holiday on a farm in Wales where he and all the other kids disregarding any health and safety rules followed the farmer round every morning to feed all the animals and collect eggs.......he may also remember the two little piglets that escaped and were chased all around the farm by a group of excited kids until the farmer’s daughter stepped in and set up ambush in the tennis courts (tennis courts?! well it was a holiday farm, don’t imagine a city girl like me can manage a holiday without a pool, flat screen T.V. and Jacuzzi!) which rescued the poor frightened things and we all went back to the barbecue.

‘Stop it!’ my partner says,’ I don’t want him to think I’m a monster!’

‘You can’t have it, because we don’t eat meat – not really, well we do eat fish, but that was a compromise I made with your Daddy when you were born........’

Too late! The monster seed has been sowed!

During my many years as a teacher it amazed me year on year that most children thought the farmer kept the animals for pets! Most horrified when they realised a ‘chicken’ is the same ‘chicken’ they ate in their KFC’s.

I’m not really against eating animals – so long as they are well cared for in life - it’s just not for me.

Anyway, a tense 90 minutes and goal later and City are the F.A. Cup winners! Our tribe wins, tears, cheers and high emotion!