Monday, 28 June 2010

Family: who'd 'av 'em?

I love my family.  Very much.  I just thought I'd clarify that before telling you that right now I want to kill them.  I don't know whether it's my fault really.  I'm 22, I like my own space, I've moved home after three years of living with friends 90 miles away and my tolerance is low when it comes to annoyance.

After spending a spectaular long weekend in Barmouth, Wales, I returned today literally five minutes before my dad and sister walked in the door.  My sister, who at 11 has turned into a character from Kevin and Perry Go Large (a film she doesn't even know exists because it was before her time) stropped in without a smile, without asking about my weekend, and then proceeded to be everywhere I wanted to be.  My father proceeded to tell me what a crap day he had in no certain terms willing me to ask why it was this way.  I didn't.

Retiring to my room I tried to pretend they weren't there.  They were ruining my post-holiday buzz.  I was dad in a strop because now the boy is back he won't have a babysitter.  (The boy is back literally just for four nights and then he's off to Europe for a month before returning to Leeds...I mean Christ, cut me some slack.)  Then he shouts at me because I don't want to know what's been happening in my very short absense and strops out telling me to ring my aunty.

I swear, I live with mental people.  This or I'm mental.  According to my doctor I'm too stressed and need to reduce the stress, "is that possible?"  My response: "I live with my dad, what do you think?"...turns out she'd seen my dad just that morning so no wonder she kept her mouth shut and just gave me a knowing look.  According to my cheerful father depression has some genetic elements and so in 20 years I'll be rather like he is now.  Lord help me.  One thing's for sure...I've came back to reality with a right bump when I walked through that door.


  1. Bummer dude. Tell your dad that studies show happiness levels start rising at age 50. It's all gravy from here on out!

  2. Is that true? Only 4 years 'til he's on the up. He's been fine since. It's like living with a very emotion woman. One that gets PMS more often than most.

  3. Yikes.

    Fun story: last night I ran into a couple of Brits here in Illinois! I do a pretty good British accent, or at least I thought I did until I talked to these fellers last night. Wow! The one guy's accent was so thick that it took a few minutes getting used to it to make it intelligible. Fun though- I talked to them for quite a while.

    Then we traded some words.

    Blimey for Y'all
    Fag (cigarette) for Yonder
    Pub for Broseph

    We're not so different, you and I.

    Also, I ripped on soccer for a while. They claimed that rugby is a real sport.


  4. English men think "rugby is a man's sport". I don't have much of an opinion on the matter.

    Yes, the accent can be quite thick. Whereabouts in the UK were they from? Maybe I could do you a translator, if you need one that is.

    Americans and their poor choice in cars/beer. Shame.