The Holiday – Part 8

Are we nearly there?…when are we going to get there Mum?…How much longer?…Are we there yet Mum?…

I remember a time when I thought this was the child/parent equivalent of water torture –

The endless repetition of how long now, accompanied by pitiful snivelling I’m bored…this is bo00-oo-rring…

By the nipping, pushing, pulling and general torment of a sibling. Jamie hit me…Ana made a face at me…he’s looking at me now…she’s looking at me now…

Followed by noxious odours and sudden wind-tunnel window-openings. Jamie’s farted… Ana smells…

I developed immunity sometime between Evan and Jamie. All it takes is the occasional screaming injunction will you two be quiet! I am warning you! And the ability to simply retreat into a virtual reality where noisy obnoxious bored children do not exist…

Meg of coursenewly returned to the family fold after a 2 year absence – has the tolerance threshold of a demented Victorian nanny. Each are we there yet is an ever-increasing and deliberate insult to her powers of subjugation. As she increases the decibel level of her attempts at sedition-suppression they discover the unfathomed joys of big sister baiting.

In the end I scream at her. You are worse than them! For gods sake! What bloody age are you?

She then goes into a major huff with me. I knew I shouldn’t have come on this holiday!

And for the first time since joining the M74 at Abington I catch a glimpse of Ana and Jamie, in my rear-view mirror, smiling at one another…

One thought on “The Holiday – Part 8

  1. Ah littler human beings (ie below the age of consent): they are almost as bad as bigger ones! I'm catching up with blogs this evening. You've managed to make me laugh out loud. The littlies in my NZ family used to do that until one day I roared so loud they never did it again. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised (and scared).

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