A Family Of Scrubbers
I left hubby with the kids for 10 minutes yesterday whilst I nipped to the shop, when I came home I found the kids naked running around the garden, screaming and squealing, throwing water from the paddling pool at each other and hubby lying on the sun lounger, sunbathing in his undies and socks.
As I simultaneously tried not to laugh, cringe and grab my camera (I later tried for the camera but he quickly got up and retired indoors) a horrible realisation dawned upon me.
We have become a family of scrubbers!
Scrubbers, for anyone that didn’t grow up in the north of England in the 80′s, were generally work dodgers that lived in council houses. They were the ones whose children ran around in just their vests and knickers, whose garden was overgrown and had at least one car parked in it that was either up on bricks or constantly being ‘worked on’ by a bunch of fat men with tattoos.
The women wore too much make-up, too tight clothes and shouted a lot, swearing, dangly earrings and sovereign rings glinting in the sunlight, the 5 or 6 ‘gold’ chains around their neck slowly leaving their green trail.
The men would always be dressed in either sports gear, God only knew why cause the closest thing to sport they came to was walking to the corner shop for another pack of fags, or a wife-beater (vest). They drank beer from cans sitting in the garden or in front of the telly, their telly was always huge, the biggest fuck off TV you could find and football was a religion.
The only time you ever saw the parents though was when they were standing in their garden yelling foul mouthed sentences at their semi naked kids who were probably playing on the road by this point, or when they emerged from their dark house full of the sound of the TV cranked up high, to replenish their alcohol and fags.
And now we swing back to my life.
Semi naked kids? As I type this my two are wearing just vests whilst running around the garden picking the heads off all the flowers.
Neglected garden? When I said flowers what I failed to mention was they were mostly buttercups and dandelions.
Work dodging? I haven’t done a days work since 2006.
Broken down clapped out car? My car does work but has a distinct death rattle that suggests it won’t for long. Our garage is constantly full of machines and cars that don’t work being looked at at by fat men. Don’t think they’ve got tattoos though.
Too much make-up? I think I get a plus point for this one as I don’t actually wear make-up most days and when I do it’s nothing more than a light smattering or powder and mascara.
Tight clothes? *breathes in and tries to stretch out the waistband of her jeans* Don’t know what you mean.
Shouting? I may or may not have just interrupted writing this to stand at my front door and yell at the top of my voice for those semi feral children of mine to put something down.
Swearing? There may or may not have been a swear word involved.
Tasteless jewelry? Woohoo! Another plus point! I don’t really wear any unless it’s a chunky bracelet, and never wear ear-rings, tasteless or not.
Men wearing sports gear? I would have said no for this one except that hubby’s new favourite top is a football top.
Only exercise walking to shops for fags? I think I get a half point for saying that although he smokes his work is very physically strenuous and he is extremely fit. I think I lose that half point though by admitting he smoke roll ups.
Drinking cans of lager in front of TV? Nope, we drink our lager from bottles and usually in the sauna. I’m fairly sure that this is the Finnish equivalent though.
Big TV? Yup
Football as a religion? Before the world cup I would have unequivocally said no. Before it started he didn’t know one end of a football from the other, suddenly now he’s a fan and can spout meaningless drivel about the chances of each team. Not quite a religion but certainly loved. Half a point maybe?
Only seeing us when we come to yell at the kids? Well we’re not really sociable but if stood outside our house you’d likely see us coming and going. I’m going to take a point for this one.
So there you go, we are a mere 3.5 points from becoming total scrubbers. *buries head in hands* Oh the shame.
I'm Heather, an ex expat, now back in blighty and living in Lancashire. Which is just like Lapland only less snowy...and stuff.
But the guys looking at your broken down machinery and assorted vehicles don't have tattoos, remember. So all's not lost!
So funny, 'scrubbers' means something rather different here in Aust.. (although it's similarly not ideal to be one)
You are about as far removed from scrubberdom as it is possible to be! Honestly! You are far too intelligent!
ha, you don't have a mum and dad covered in tatoos – so I lose a few points?
You're in fine company. Although the kids are very rarely semi-naked, there's is a certain amount of yelling (with and without swearing) involved in our place. Big TV – yup. I bought the biggest flat screen I could find when I figured out that most of the time in the UK between Nov-March was going to be sitting inside watching tv! Garden is a mess. Front garden still has the cat cage that the cat emigrated in, almost two years ago now and various wine bottles that never seem to make it into the recycling. Hubby is very fit and doesn't smoke, though we do have a variety of small appliances in the yard that vaguely work. My car is also nearing it's golden years and I'm struggling to find work. Oh the shame. x
Am refusing to check how far away we are… naked children, shouting at them, various cars and things littering the place… oh @rse!
lol, to me, a Southemer a scrubber is a woman who has 'had' too may men in her time!!! You do make me smile Heather. Mich x
thank God they don't have tattoos or i fear we would be far too close. I wonder if you version of scrubber is similar to Michelle's in a comment below – a woman that has 'had' rather a lot of men?
'Yeah, init', she mutters fingering her green chain whilst yelling at the kids to shut the fuck up.
Depends? do they lean over the open bonnet of cars parked in your driveway whilst swigging beer and swearing at the kids? If so, most definitely
Oh that cat box makes me feel much better about some of the junk cluttering up my yard.
Indeed! tis scary, is it not?
Ahem, no comment. *looks up at ceiling and whistle innocently*
Ha! I loved this. Scrubbers–perhaps there's a fine line between real scrubbers and look-alikes. The fine line being that Scrubber isn't day to day lifestyle for you. Or maybe fine line is the brain you use that they dont… naw, its not a fine line at all. In fact Im pretty sure you;re not remotely Scrubber-ish. But it makes for fun reading at least
ahh bless you *makes mental note never to invite her round to house so she
can hold onto that illusion*
Yes….. that's the one!
Oh god… I think we're about the same! Zack regularly goes around in a tshirt and boxers in the garden – especially since we're now on summer holidays… what's the point in getting all dressed up when we're not going anywhere right?
Also I may or may not have just told him to shut up and leave me alone for 5 minutes… *cough*
Shit, and I'm smoking a roll-up as I type this… hiding in the kitchen… >_<
Around here what you've just described would be called red-necks. And yup, I admit I have my moments…..
Yep, that's the same here. Although, sometimes you'll also hear them called hillbillies. Just don't show my husband this post. He hails from the land of hillbillies and has effectively disowned his heritage due to that meager fact.
As for the yelling, swearing, smoking, undie-wearing, messy yard model, no comment
LMAO sorry hun. You are welcome to escape and come here for some R&R.
Maybe the word 'scrubbers' has evolved, or maybe we have a different meaning in Ireland but you would definitly fail the scrubber test here, honest
(lady of the night kind of thing). See, all is not lost, things could be so much worse 
Jen
Yeah, was just going to say will you stop yelling 'cause I can hear you from here.
Oh, sorry, that was my own echo down the alleyway.
As you were.
LCM x
Oh dear, I think I may be on the same point tally, except that now I've gone all middle class I'm swigging wine instead, from the bottle of course.
No you're not scrubbers, you're pikeys! I bet your children call you 'Mam'.
(PS: I'm from the Midlands and scrubbers were girls who wore tight short skirts, white stilettos and shagged everything.)
I've always thought scrubbers meant a woman of easy virtue. There is a great line in the film Withnail and I when Withnail leans out of the car and screams at some schoolgirls: “Scrubbers! Scrubbers! Little tarts. They love it.”
I think you may have just perfectly described my family (she wrote while fingering the 18 gold chains around her neck and yelling “shut yer pie hole!” at the naked & tatooed children who just came dashing through the house to bring her another beer). Yikes?
LOL
Can you remember the Clampets? – Well we call ourselves the crumpets because we think we're like them (but without the money lol)
Hmmmm I've just read that back and maybe I should keep that to myself….
I don't know about scrubbers, you're called chavs where i come from ;<)
Naked in Lapland? Is this another sign of global warming?
P.S. with apologies – I've tagged you for a meme. See my blog for details!
Ha,ha,ha. Also guilty here. I didn't bother dressing L until 3 o'clock on Saturday and we'll say nothing about the fact that I was in my PJs til 2. I also tend not to clean her face because it just ends in tears – both of ours.
I defy any parent not to score just a few points! How many points for a fridge in the garden?
So funny Heather! I think we might qualify on some of those points too. Unfortunately my kids have all reached an age when nudity is not condoned. It was great when they were little and the summers were warm and they embraced their nakedness. Swearing, shouting, big tv, smoking, neglected garden oh yeah. Win on those. But hey life's short and who has the time to scrub up!
You're not a real scrubber til you have two kitchen appliances on your porch – apparently. I no longer visit my sister in daylight since her washing machine moved out and didn't get further than the back door. If I must go during the day I try to blend in my not wearing a bra under my XXXXXXXXXXL rugby shirt – tends to keep the neighbours at bay.
(Actually she lives in a really nice street surrounded by coffin dodgers but she DOES have a washing machine rusting at her back door – but at least it's not a twin tub…)
Exactly! It's only more clothes to wash.
Hillbillies and red necks – sounds way more fun than scrubbers somehow.
ha ha ha, it would probably be more peaceful
It seems to be that way almost everywhere except where I grew up. The girls that put it about too much were slappers and the ones that got paid just plain old prossies
Ooh, you're such a scrubber.
Screw top?
I remember moving to the South of England and being really confused when people were talking about Pikeys. I had no idea what one was, we didn't know that word up north until Snatch came out. We called them gypos, but they were really caravan living gypos.
Apparently in the rest of the UK it does, going off my comments. Just us from Rochdale, or possibly Lancashire, that used this version.
You bloody scrubbers! tee hee. join the club.
ha ha ha, the crumpets! love it!
Did you just called me a chav?
how rude! 
Nooo! It is warm here sometimes, honest!
oh sod, erm I mean yeay, great cool. Will be right over
wait? You're supposed to clean them?
ooh, I think you get 2 for white goods left in the garden!
it is great when they are small and can run and starkers, isn't it?
Two? Oh phew. I'm not quite there yet then. Where I'm from they're much more likely to be wearing boob tubes with no bra and mini skirts so short they ought to be illegal.
SCRUBBERS!!!!!
Redneck hillbilly and damn proud of it. You don’t like it thats your problem, get the hell off my land or I’m gettin’ the shotgun