Interrupting my cheeky chappy, before he had a chance to bat his eyelids, I knew exactly what question was coming next.
‘I’ve told you once, I’ll tell you again,’ I said to my son Mckenna, then 16. ‘You can get a motorbike when you turn 17 and when you have your licence.’
Although he was obsessed with bikes, he was accident prone.
And that’s the exact reason why I didn’t want him to have a motor.
Growing up, me and Mckenna’s dad Darren, now 36, would be in and out of Tameside A&E due to Mckenna attempting wheelies on his push bike.
Not only that, but he was one of those kids who would always be up to no good.
Stuffing frozen peas up his nose, biting washing tablets and trying to jump off everything.
However, even though he was a typical lad, he had a heart of gold.
He’d stick up for his stepsister
