There were seven of us and my nearest sibling has a significant zero birthday today. Or `nought’ as we used to describe it in the 20th century before films, TV, and music brought zero into our lives. Seán — said sibling — made my young life a misery.
I tried to kill him twice, once accidentally. And I was the good boy of us two. He was — as generally agreed — mad and wild as a March hare (whatever the month).
And he always got away with it. Not me. Were I to do the things he did people would just stand back in amazement that I, Patsy, would carry on like that.
It wasn’t easy being me. Anyhow, to my murder attempts. The first was when we were small boys and helping a man who was putting a fence around our garden.
I was chopping at a bit of wood with a small axe when Seán got in the way (as usual). I hit him on the head and, as the blood gushed forth, I ran to the henhouse — refuge of sinners — believing I’d be killed. READ MORE First Doireann Garrihy, now the 2 Johnnies and Jennifer Zamparelli: why are so many stars leaving 2FM? ‘My main takeaways a year after swapping Ireland for Portugal’ ‘My partner will not give up meeting people for sex.
I feel enormous rejection’ Ireland’s best restaurants revealed at annual awards I wasn’t, neither was he. Our parents’ primary concern was with getting him to the doctor not with chastising me. To this day Seán has a scar on his head from that time.
The second murder attempt was a couple of years late.