What do you expect me to get with £2.25?!

That question was posed to me by my daughter after I explained that was what I got paid for doing a paper round when I was 12.

Of course it was worth a lot more to a twelve-year-old back then. But then I got thinking my paper round was pretty tough.

Would I want my child doing a paper round in the morning today?

I would be up at 7am and the round would take me 30 minutes. In the winter this would mean I was walking around the streets of Blackburn in near darkness.

Once a week, normally a Friday, there was a duel with a dog in Livingstone Road. For some reason he was free from his lead on a Friday, and waited for me.

I won the weekly battle by balancing on another neighbour’s porch and posting the paper without setting foot into his garden.

The most demeaning thing was when you didn’t get up in the morning, the newsagent had the nerve to knock on my door and drive around as I posted the papers.

Hey, I love newsagents, but this guy hated missing a delivery.

And I hated residents who got their paper delivered, but moaned if you banged the gate too hard. Come on!

And I wasn’t finished just yet. The afternoon paper round took me another 30 minutes, and I fitted it in before going to mosque and finishing school.

I recollect wanting to give up after the first week but, having persuaded by mother to let me do it, I was not about to throw in the towel. I ended up doing that round for two years.

For this I got £2.25 a week. Yes, £2.25 a week.

That £2.25 tended to last me two weeks as I had nothing really to spend it on. I wasn’t into sweets, or toys. Most of the money went on taped-up tennis balls for the epic cricket matches, or new footballs.