I’ll take one DNA test please

Nearing Christmas and thoughts turn to family, that unnerving slight feeling of dread enveloping us.

I avoid this by not spending Christmas with them, actually I rarely spend it in the UK so we bring it forward a few weeks to accommodate us all.

I’d recommend changing Christmas to suit your lifestyle too as it comes with many benefits:

  • You can up and leave when you fall out after playing Monopoly instead of ruing the lack of trains keeping you prisoner in the suburbs for two days
  • Tim Allen won’t be on TV arsing around in a Santa outfit (substitute Tim Allen for any irritant that appears on your screens every year)
  • The shops may not have started selling sprouts yet

    Something's not right here....of course, TV's not on

We’re pretty awful and keeping in touch, Christmas being one of the few occasions a year we see each other despite being 90 minutes away by train, we’re equally to blame for this lack of effort:

I always thought my parents didn’t like travelling to London with its streets teeming with potential muggers and confusing tube systems so I was surprised to learn they’ve been coming to see all manner of West End shows over the last few years.   They know I don’t like a musical so they’re thinking of me right?

They have been to see me in Camden once, although their lasting impression was in a beer garden when a branch fell from a tree and landed on my mother’s head, my father leaping out of the way as it fell.   Pretty quick reflexes for a 60 year old man, but not a great show of chivalry.

Maybe it’s middle child syndrome?  They got the grandkids they desired from both my bookended siblings, my cat doesn’t count towards my quota as my mum’s allergic – to everything.

I found out my brother’s girlfriend was pregnant when they rang to say they’d had a girl (well, nearly anyway).  I didn’t help matters when on her first birthday I mistakenly sent a card addressed to Alice  (her name is April)

Maybe I’m adopted, there are some warning signs least of all the height factor, I tower above them at 5ft 10 when I posture correctly, whereas they’d all have little (sic) problem auditioning for The Hobbit.

And then there are examples of inexplicable behaviour like my mother who suffers from eczema, her hands dry and sore that they constantly crack and weep.   She will reach for a medicated plaster (band-aid) and cuts off the medicated part, discards it and puts the sticky part over the open wound.  Her reasoning for this insanity?

“Otherwise it falls off when I wash my hands”.  

It’s a wonder she doesn’t just squirt superglue into the cut instead.

I’m being a bit bleak, we get on fine, every family needs to have a slight dysfunctionality right?!

Leave a comment


  1. Kirk

     /  November 2, 2011

    The sticking plaster thing is mental!

  2. I often thought I was adopted as a child too. Holidays sucked. Now I wish I would have made more of an effort to bring in the happiness to the holidays. I suppose I kept waiting on them to make me happy. My parents are gone now and it just feels so different. I guess we only get one time to make things count. I will be thinking of you this holiday season. 🙂

    • Bless you. It took my sisters husband to bring us closer, he lost his father in his teens and couldn’t understand why we weren’t closer, and he actually gave us a good talking too years ago. So its good now, sometimes parents don’t know what to do aswell, and now we are adult the growing pains are gone. With us doing Xmas early it does take the stresses out and we relax more

  3. We choose our friends. We don’t choose our family. Some people spend a lifetime forcing themselves to work at these family relationships, but if you would never choose to be friends with that person or have them in your life if they weren’t family, then what’s the point?

    • Controversial GG!

      My folks don’t have friends either.

      I’d I’ve a few I never chose – how did they get past the screening proces?

      I feel a Dear Good Greatsby letter coming on…

  4. Did your mom put the “sticky part” of the band-aid on her head when the branch fell on it? Ouch!

    • More than likely, her bag would have everything in it to account for any eventuallity including falling timber!

      She was ok, we laughed about it after especially teasing my dad for not protecting her just saving himself . We went to a bakery after to console her with cake and the assistant gave her £5 too much in change back. It was a day of highs and lows.


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