Years ago, I tried asking my a.dad that question. "How much did you pay for me?" I got the deer-in-head-lights look, then the classic, "Why would you ask such a stupid question?!?"
I asked because I wanted to point out to him I was tired of "owing them" proof that I was good and loyal and worthy of their attention, just like they gave their natural son. Yet the point got lost on him. Besides, it was never him who got caught-up on appearances, anyway.
Like everything else, we dropped the conversation, and let it go. You would think that would be kept in a baby scrap-book, though... donchya? A receipt of some sort? Something?
I did when I was about 4 and got told a £100 I think they were just trying to make me feel valuable, there's no record of that being fact, No money is supposed to change hands for a English adoption (not since the 1926 Act) They were given five shillings and sixpence a week when I was fostered, they were told to give me the sixpence as pocket money even though I was only 2 years old. I saved and used much later to buy my first packet of cigarettes
My natural mother was paying the agency eight shillings a week, or at least she was supposed to be, don't think she ever did. But I'd like to know if she did what happened to the difference?
I don't know if there were any legal expenses expected from adoptive parents back then, I don't think there were
As a small child I thought I'd been purchased from Woolworth's, my favourite shop at the time, I thought all kids were
Latter I resented the fact that my dad didn't like me telling people I was adopted, when I felt that he liked to remind me of the fact rather too often at times, but I forgave him that in the end. I guess it's not easy to bring up a kid on your own even when it's your own, if it's someone else's there must always be a temptation to blame that someone else for all the little faults you've caused in that kid
He never did take me back to Woolworth's (or even Barnardo's) for a replacement so I guess I wasn't totally faulty
My a dad's mother would tell me all the time she was going to sell me back to the indians. I knew it was her version of being playful with me, but it scared the living crap out of me, especially given the fact I was not Indian.
I have no idea how much was spent on me. Although, I bet my a.mother has kept a running tab! Taking me was, and is, one thing, That's easy, and I'm the first to admit that. Keeping me, however, is a whole new animal. I guess it's cute and sweet and acceptable when I don't voice opinions and I keep within the herd, but once I dare to show my true stripes, and colors, that's when trouble begins.
Makes ya wonder where the phrase "mum's the word" comes from.
Comments
Trying to get a sense of closure
Years ago, I tried asking my a.dad that question. "How much did you pay for me?" I got the deer-in-head-lights look, then the classic, "Why would you ask such a stupid question?!?"
I asked because I wanted to point out to him I was tired of "owing them" proof that I was good and loyal and worthy of their attention, just like they gave their natural son. Yet the point got lost on him. Besides, it was never him who got caught-up on appearances, anyway.
Like everything else, we dropped the conversation, and let it go. You would think that would be kept in a baby scrap-book, though... donchya? A receipt of some sort? Something?
£100...not much really, for a bargain like me
I did when I was about 4 and got told a £100 I think they were just trying to make me feel valuable, there's no record of that being fact, No money is supposed to change hands for a English adoption (not since the 1926 Act) They were given five shillings and sixpence a week when I was fostered, they were told to give me the sixpence as pocket money even though I was only 2 years old. I saved and used much later to buy my first packet of cigarettes
My natural mother was paying the agency eight shillings a week, or at least she was supposed to be, don't think she ever did. But I'd like to know if she did what happened to the difference?
I don't know if there were any legal expenses expected from adoptive parents back then, I don't think there were
Robin
*
Woolworth's
As a small child I thought I'd been purchased from Woolworth's, my favourite shop at the time, I thought all kids were
Latter I resented the fact that my dad didn't like me telling people I was adopted, when I felt that he liked to remind me of the fact rather too often at times, but I forgave him that in the end. I guess it's not easy to bring up a kid on your own even when it's your own, if it's someone else's there must always be a temptation to blame that someone else for all the little faults you've caused in that kid
He never did take me back to Woolworth's (or even Barnardo's) for a replacement so I guess I wasn't totally faulty
Robin
*
Sell me back
My a dad's mother would tell me all the time she was going to sell me back to the indians. I knew it was her version of being playful with me, but it scared the living crap out of me, especially given the fact I was not Indian.
inflation
I have no idea how much was spent on me. Although, I bet my a.mother has kept a running tab! Taking me was, and is, one thing, That's easy, and I'm the first to admit that. Keeping me, however, is a whole new animal. I guess it's cute and sweet and acceptable when I don't voice opinions and I keep within the herd, but once I dare to show my true stripes, and colors, that's when trouble begins.
Makes ya wonder where the phrase "mum's the word" comes from.
Who stole my bottle, dammit?