I did try to ask questions and talk to Nanny but different things but that was considered Talking back or sassing which resulted in the striping of the legs or mashing of one's mouth, and then being put in the dark closet until the crying stopped.
Talking back
Mum snaps open a can of lager, takes a guzzly swig and lets out a rattling burp.
“Oh, Nip. You're going to be bitterful of wit at my expense?”
He stopped in midchomp and lowered his fork, staring at me in amazement.
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