When I was a child “tomorrow” had several meanings.

When my mother said “tomorrow”  she meant the day after today.

  Some of the adults who had a hand in  my upbringing meant something quite different. They really meant, “Not today, and if we are lucky, she will forget by tomorrow, and we can get out of doing whatever I was pestering to do.” 

My youngest grandson is much quicker than I was and would have asked, “How many sleeps is that?”

My Auntie Annie was a bit more honest than most with her own special version, “Tomorrow week come Wednesday!” which of course meant it was highly unlikely to happen. She was the mistress of malapropisms and mangled phrases, but was such a jolly person, and an inveterate giggler, that you forgave it all.

I don’t know how she became so jolly because she was Aunt Clara’s daughter and Aunt Clara was the epitome of a Victorian lady. Very upright  (both figuratively and literally) and certainly not given to giggling. She never dissembled or gave reasons , just plain  “yes” or “no”  and brooked no argument.

Isn’t it strange how long it was until tomorrow, when something exciting was going to happen, like a holiday, a party or Christmas?  How short the time seemed when something you were dreading was ahead like an exam ( especially if you hadn’t done much work for it)