Mutton CHASING Lamb(y)

41S6aa9gHeL._SY300_When I was little, my Nan gave me a knitted cuddly toy lamb which was stuffed full of old pairs of tights. Homemade and lovely, he was grey and floppy and I adored him. I called him Lamby.

When I left home at 17 to go and work away on a holiday camp I took Lamby with me. He was my bedfellow for the first of many nights in a grotty staff chalet at a holiday camp miles from home.

Then love, or lust got in the way. I fell in love with a boy, and on the last day of the summer season, through a fog of tears I gave him Lamby, to remember me by and for him to ‘cuddle whilst we were apart.’

I know.

I also gave him some money for the pay phone so he could give me a call that night (the boy, not Lamby). He never called and I never saw him or Lamby again. I was heartbroken.

Stick with me here, there is a moral to this stuffed toy tale of woe, because recently I found said boy on Facebook, in a fit of midnight ‘boys I have loved since 1989’ stalking.

Usually, I would never add old loves, especially ones from my teens who, lets face it, probably wouldn’t remember me and would wonder why the hell at 42 years old I still remember them. (Why the hell DO I?) – But I decided to add him as a friend to see if, well. To see if he still had my lost lamb.

I know. I’m officially insane, but it has honestly bothered me so much over the years. Why did I give it to him? He probably just discarded it and used the pay phone money to buy fags. It was 1991. It is now 2016. It is like asking for a quid back that you lent someone in the 90s to buy one Silk Cut cigarette from the dodgy newsagent with.

Anyway, in my defense, I have been in a haze of pain meds over the last three weeks, because I have slipped a disc in my back. With that in mind, I thought I would share the conversation, as it stood, in the private message section on Facebook.

For the purpose of the tape, I am ‘Me’ and he is ‘LS,’ short for Lamby Stealer.

Me: Hi…. I bet you don’t remember me..

LS: Hi, of course I do, wow it has been years we are propa old now (yes he spelt it PROPA)

Me: I was just reminiscing back to the days of Haven Holidays, sitting here thinking about those summers, they were brilliant summers

LS: They always rained.

Me: ALWAYS. The amount of time we had to do darts in the ballroom because it was too wet for rounders.

LS: You hated darts

Me: Hated

Me: Hello?

(all goes quiet, so I go for it…)

Me: So, I was thinking about the end of the summer season

LS: What season? 90 or 91?

Me: ’91. Remember how upset we were on the last day? We were so dramatic; swearing we would never lose touch and would make sure we visited each other even though we lived at different ends of the country.

LS: We were like a family though I guess all of us at the camp. So what do you do now? Are you married? Kids? I’ve got 3 kids.

Me: No and No and well done you. Anyway, back to that last day of the summer season. We were so ridiculous. Do you remember I gave you something to remember me by?

LS: Did you?

Me: Yes, don’t you remember, my Grandmother’s lamb?

LS: Eh? A dinner?

Me: No, a lamb.

LS: A real lamb?

Me: A stuffed lamb. Not a real lamb. A toy lamb. He was grey, and had floppy ears and was called Lamby. It was my childhood toy.

LS: you gave it to me? I don’t remember. Er, sorry

Me: It’s just a memory. I have just wondered over the years if ….

LS: Are you alright hun? LOLZ

Me: Just reminiscing and wondering if you have, I mean remember, like, what you might have done with my lamb?

LS: I can’t remember Lorna, is that why you contacted me?

Me. No, don’t be ridiculous (side eye to camera) just a memory, just wanted to say hello after all these years.


Me: Have I freaked you out?

Me: I have freaked you out haven’t I?

Me: I really loved that lamb.


I know what you are all thinking. I am totally blaming the diazepam for this ludicrous conversation. But the next day I woke up utterly mortified about being such a weirdo, so I went to message him again but, what are the odds, the lamb stealing heartbreaker had BLOCKED ME!

Can’t for a minute think why?

The moral of this story kids, is never give things away you have loved longer than the silly boy/girl you think you are in love with. Also, if you do, let it go, otherwise you will wake up in a fit of mentalness many decades later and truly, utterly embarrass yourself.

Even so, I will still always think about Lamby. Wherever he is now.

And I never got my 50p back for the pay phone either. What a tosser.

I really loved that lamb.


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