Part one of term paper
Anyone who thinks that Sunday is a day of rent needs to spend a couple of hours in my living room. From the minute I am awakened by the shrill, ear piercing ring of the telephone, until the end of whatever premiership football match is showing on Sky, I am bombarded with a cacophony of sounds. The person on the other end of the telephone is ...

Part two of term paper
... them in no doubt of my mood. The second question they ask is, “What time is dinner?”. Well, for the past 29 years I have been alive, dinner has always been served when dad stumbles in from the pub at 3 o’clock. I have asked all of my brothers why they insist on asking me this question, and they usually answer with the same conspiratorial laugh they have all used against me since my time began. I was never considered a cute little sister to be cuddled, but someone who was born to be the ...