Times were hard.

Back in 1985, me and the wife had our first child, our first mortgage and our first remote control colour tv. We had woke up one Sunday morning, and scraped together 22p. We were short 67p, and this was an emergency.

SMA milk(i think) was 89 pence a tub, and we were running short, our little girl had enough for one more feed. We lived on Stansfeld St(near Griffin) so I set off walking to her mums in Feniscowls. It was 8am, and time was of the essence. When I got there, I gave her the note Angela had wrote, asking for £1, she exlained in so many words, they too were skint, sorry.

I then set off to my mums, she lived up near Queens park hospital. When I got there, I managed to get 50p, still 17p short. I walked back home, knowing full well, I was in for a bollocking. To be fair, she did not hit me too hard, as she could see I had sweat rolling down my brow. What did my mum say? I told her she was skint. Did you tell her it was for baby milk? No, I just gave her the note...OMG, you feckin eeejit(she is english btw) she should have told her what it was for, you'll have to go back.

Off I trotted, and sure enough, she felt very guilty, and gave me enough for both milk, and busfare. The only place to buy it back then, was the chemist on the boulevard, which was due to close in an hour. It ain't rocket science, busfare was not an option, I legged it, and got there just in time. The money I had left over bought the wife some dinner, I was okay, she let me watch her eat it, and I had leftovers lol.

By now, it was 3pm, and I had been out walking for 6 hours, and I deserved a medal. The kids these days ain't got a scooby do! I'm not alone in my tales of heroism and hardship, but I did walk approximately 137 miles that day, in less than 6 hours(sort of)

Can anyone beat that?
?