Drink & Religion
Christmas Eve many many years ago.. Tradition dictated that we all would go up to the pub and sing 12 Days of Christmas with revised lyrics. cannot recall them all, but they were pretty lurid (five licking lesbians being one).

The object of the idea was for those who wanted to would leave the pub and head towards the church in time for the midnight service. As usual we were too late to be let in, but undeterred, I decided that it would be a fine plan to wander through the churchyard and tap on the windows of the tiny Saxon church so that I could wave at my mates who had made it inside. Even now, so 14 years later, I am squirming. Eventually I tired of this game and retired to my mother's Volvo (she was in the church and had steadfastly refused to turn around to see who had been tapping on the window - I can only suppose that she may have guessed). It was not long before I felt the need to empty my stomach, no problem - except that the church is now kicking out and there is a gathering throng... ah quelle faux pas. Climb back in to car and pretend nothing has happened. Joined by mother sisters and grandmother. Set off for home - motion causes further need to empty guts. Only one thing for it - wind down window and let rip down side of the car. All the while thinking that I am being hyper-smooth about the whole thing and that nobody could possibly have noticed. ….

December 25th 1994 7.15am – Me trying to clean dried vomit of my poor mum’s Volvo, ably assisted by the dog snacking on the lumpy bits.

My late mother never said a word
(conanow, Mon 1 Dec 2008, 16:54, Reply)