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This is a question Drunk Parents

Watching the old man swing home from the pub and start arguing with Newsnight can be either funny, slightly unnerving or just plain terrifying. Tell us about daft things parents have done while they've been in their cups.

Suggested by NotDavidBailey, voted for by YOU

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 17:58)
Pages: Popular, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Dad. Cat. Tree.
My Dad used to live in a fairly remote area, a small village surrounded by fields, well off the beaten track.

As with any sense of remoteness, comes a sense of 'not being found, if you injure yourself by acting a prat'.

Sadly, my Father had drank his fair share at the local one winter, and had walked home from the pub to discover that his cat was stuck in the tree. Being a drunken fool, he decided the best option was to attempt to scale the tree and somehow rescue the cat.

What actually happened was my Dad clambered a fair way up the tree, and then realised he was stuck. Then he decided to fall out the tree. Landing flat on his back, on the cold frozen mud of the next door field, narrowly missing the jagged fence which surrounded the yard, and somehow avoiding falling down into open drainage tank, which lay in between his garden and the neighbours.

It apparently took my Dad nearly two hours, to drag his now, very battered and very sober arse indoors, before ringing his Brother (My uncle) who promptly laughed at him, before taking him to the hospital.

Silly old berk. Incidentally the cat was fine.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 23:34, 5 replies)
Mummy, what does that word mean?
I used to do some GCSE maths and science tutoring for the daughter of some of my parent's friends on a Monday night. I went round one week after my parents had been there for a party on the Saturday. They had a huge crossword on the outside of their downstairs toilet door and it had been filled in with all manner of filthy words, some of which were even new to me. Apparently my mum and her friend had filled it in after several G&T's. She reverts to behaving like a silly schoolgirl when she's drunk which is quite strange to me when she's normally so straight-laced. Like Gremlins should never be fed after midnight, you should never EVER give my mum tequila, though that's for a different QOTW.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 23:27, Reply)
is a drunk. He has two young children and told me this conversation with his wife he had recently one Sunday morning.

You said you wouldn't drink too much last night.
That's right I only had a couple of drinks.
Are you sure?
So why did little Tess find a turd in the middle of the kitchen floor this morning?
Oh no! It must have been the cat.
I don't think so.
Why not?
Because it had a sheet of used toilet roll next to it. :-/
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 22:55, 2 replies)
Under the influence of only a couple of G&Ts
My mum decided to let my wife in on the reason for social problems in the area...the very same ethnic and professional group my wife belongs to! She then went on to compound the matter by saying "Not you of course Mrs Number 5 but the rest of your lot" . Not just a bigot but a drunk bigot , eh Mum?
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 22:07, 21 replies)
Drink and death
The night our very own Princess of Hearts (TM) died is doubly memorable for me, as the night I saw my parents really, truly trollied.

They're not big drinkers but have a couple of really old friends who have been leading them astray for the best part of 45 years. This sunny Saturday they had been out to the races, drinking all day as you do. Usually when they came home a bit tipsy it would be dinner then bed, but on this particular day they came back around 6pm and started on the champers.

Come nine, they decided to stagger down the lane to a nearby hotel/pub/dive which had the world's lamest outdoor beer festival. I was persuaded into accompanying them, out of sheer curiosity and entertainment at how royally pissed they all were. As we arrived they strode straight out onto the wood shavings- and -hay bale "dance floor" and started getting down to that terrible country "tune" the bunch of twunts from Emmerdale had recently released - I seem to remember they called themselves The Woolpackers. The four of them were executing an enthusiastic but tragically mistimed line dance, oblivious to the sniggers/horrified looks of the other patrons, until one of the friends lost all co-ordination after a particularly high leg-kick and fell over sideways. Not to be deterred, the hoe-down continued. Eventually my dad fell headlong into a rosebush, as I pretended I wasn't with any of them. A random punter even came up to me to enquire increduously whether they were my parents. I replied in the negative.

As I attempted to usher the completely ratted band home, dad heard there was an even better* "do" inside in one of the draughty function rooms and decided we should all go and crash the party. They ran into someone's wedding reception and continued the hoe down, until mum decided that it was actually some sort of party for the staff of the local Tescos (I've no idea where she got this from) and left yelling "I can't, I have to shop there!", there being no other supermarket of note in our one-horse town.

Eventually by promising that I was going to drive them to the Bamboo Club in Stockport, a mere two and a half hour round trip, I managed to herd them back up the lane and into our living room, where they pushed all the furniture against the walls and made me DJ classic 70's rock for them into the early hours.

Got up the next morning, me fresh as a daisy and them all chronically hungover, to find out poor old Di had croaked around the same time we cracked out the Led Zepplin IV vinyl....

*or completely crap
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 21:53, 6 replies)
Just about on topic
Over Christmas, I was in waterstones (UK brand of book store) looking for suitable gifts. Seeing a 3 for 2 offer on a few books, I quickly found 2 books for my father, one was a book of the oldest recorded jokes, the outher was "101 whiskeys to try before you die". One book short, I treated myself to the Aithiest guide to Christmas.

At the check out, I was served by a pretty girl, she was friendly and had a nice smile, so I was determined to flirt.

As she scanned my Aithiests guide to Christmas, she looked up and smiled. "I got my dad that because he's really cynical and dosen't like Christmas much." she said happily.
I returned the smile and decided I'd joke my way into her heart (read: vagina) as she picked up the whiskey book I came up with what I was sure was a corker, sure to make her laugh.
"I got that for my Dad because he's an alcoholic."

Her smile fell, her eyes darted away, everything became very awkward. She quickly took my money without meeting my eye, clearly unsure how to react. I struggled not to giggle as I left, learning the hard way that alcoholic parents isn't a good ice breaker with the fairer sex.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 21:47, 4 replies)
Drunken Parents
My dad is a respectable man now, but when he was younger he ran off to join the Royal Navy at the earliest opportunity. Now we know that sailors like a wee tipple every now and then and this is his worst moment.

When i was only a few months old (30 ish years ago) my mum was at home with me while my dad was at a formal dinner at the Naval Base he was stationed at. About 3am there is a banging at the front door and my mum rushes downstairs thinking something had gone horribly wrong.

There were two military policemen standing at the door with my dad hanging dead drunk between them. One of them asks my mum "Is this yours?" before depositing him on the sofa and leaving.

My dad is a legend.

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 21:46, 4 replies)
Hungover Mother
This is a fairly normal occurrence for me. She visited the other week while hungover, and bonded with the OH about being hungover (separate nights out, thankfully), and suddenly... she adds him on facebook. If you want to get on my mother's good books you don't need a good job, or to be respectable... you need to understand getting smashed on a Saturday... Friday... whatever night.

My main memories from childhood is that her main reaction to being hungover was to get up at 6am and start doing housework. Loudly. The hoover would come out at 6.30am, being pushed against all of our doors.
"Mum, it's not even 7!"

She'd then complain that "the birds outside were too noisy". Pff.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 21:25, Reply)
Oh dear.
I don't have any stories on my own parents (at least not ones that I could make funny), nor do I have any on me being drunk around my kids. Does that make me dull?

I suppose I could tell some on other people I've known...
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 21:15, 2 replies)
My rentals are a touch on the staid side, but
this one time, my siblings, some friends and I once managed to get them to play beer pong. That was hilarious. They were a bit dull at first, but after a few rounds of everyone picking on them they were both drunk and competitive to the point of being obsessional. What little accuracy they possessed (before the many cups of vodka and tonic (don't ask)) became the last bit of pride they had, as they stumbled, knocked over the cups and fell on the floor in their efforts to fight back against their progeny and accomplices. My mum "won" the game, though (after my dad fell on the table and broke it). And that was the end of that! I do feel like a bit of a todger for my part in getting them TUBBAR but it was a sweet revenge for all those times they tucked me into bed when I was small. Needless to say, this is an incident that is not brought up at our house.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 20:51, Reply)
Not my parent, but my uncle.
It was right after my grandmother's funeral. She had a long, protracted illness and her death was probably a blessing for her. Her oldest son, my uncle, had taken care of her the whole time because my grandfather couldn't so much as tie his own shoes without my grandmother's help. She was his entire world, and he was helpless as she slipped away from him.

At the reception at her funeral, my grandfather just sat in a corner and didn't speak. My uncle, on the other hand, whipped out a bottle of booze and drank the whole thing.

He stumbled from one group of mourners to the next laughing, trying to get them to dance, then cursing a blue streak when they didn't. Eventually, he came up to me and grabbed my hands (I was maybe 7 at the time) and he said, "Come on, Audienda, you've got to learn your doo-doo-doot-doo's!!" He then sang some bizarre song from the 1950's and swung me around. I struggled away from his touch and gave him a look of complete and utter disgust. I was young, but I knew that this was neither the time nor place.

My death glare stopped him in his tracks, and he got up and left the house. It was my first exposure to drunkenness.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 20:45, 8 replies)
My parents got drunk once
..... roughly 32 years and nine months ago.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 20:39, 3 replies)
oh dear
who votes for this shit every week /talk???
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 20:01, 13 replies)
my mate's dad
has, more than once, attempted to slip me the tongue when he's been pissed. he is a disgusting lecherous man-wrinkle. his whole family know he likes me, so they keep an eye on him when he's had a few.
no fucking need, i don't go anywhere NEAR him nowadays.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 19:54, 14 replies)
Coming back from a fancy dress party
The theme being shipwrecked. My mother, in her infinite wisdom, has decided to wear nothing but a bokini wrapped in a windsurf sail. Much scrumpy had been consumed, and somehow she had aquirred a wodden tankard full of the stuff. She then decides to "borrow" a longboard from a 12 year old boy, drunkenly skatebaord down the middle of the road, whilst taking swigs and proclaiming loudly to everyone who could hear that her "apple juice had gone off".
I didn't know whether to feel proud or ashamed :/
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 19:54, 6 replies)
That's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow
My dad once drank alot of wine and cried because he coulden't remember the name of the pirate in pirates of the carabian.

I have never seen him cry on any outher occasion in my 24 years of knowing him.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 19:35, 4 replies)
back in the day when good old Britain had a defence industry and built beautiful planes to keep us all safe and smug.
my father was a tech sergeant on a now closed RAF base that used to fly lightnings.
one weekend he and my mum who was an air traffic controller on the base decided to get jiggy in the hanger on the wing of a lightning, unfortunately they chose sunday afternoon to get a skinfull first and whilst getting down to the sweaty business failed to see there friends at the hanger door getting a free show. pity for him he had to much to drink and shot his wad in seconds and had to put up with the nickname of lightning for the rest of his career .
not very funny but then they both were boring peeps until they had a drink inside them. i think that there may be a few more stories here for them
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 19:26, Reply)
My Wanking Disaster
...is that I managed to find my Happy Place whilst playing the lady-cove in the toilets at work today - the Ladies, mind you - and I am a day late for submitting it to the QOTW.

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:58, 2 replies)
invisible motorbike
my mum isn't much of a drinker, but she used to like the occasional whisky. only one particular brand would do, however.
one night, whilst out with her friends, she went to the bar to get the drinks in. upon discovering that her favourite tipple was unavailable, she had a little think: what was it all the kids were drinking nowadays? oh yes, that's right, Diamond White. well, if it was good enough for them, she'd give it a go.
mum had never drunk cider before, but this stuff was going down like lemonade. if you've drunk Diamond White before, you'll know that it is deceptively strong, especially for the unwary.
after 3 bottles, mum was feeling decidedly merry. she and her friends followed their usual sunday night itinerary, which concluded with them meeting their husbands in my local, in which they all worked. by the time they got there, mum hah had 5 bottles and was well and truly shitfaced. after watching her almost missing her mouth with the 6th bottle, my dad had a word with the other barman on duty. "next time she asks for a drink, fill her empty bottle with water. she's pissed, she'll never notice." yeah, right.
there are 2 things my mum hates, being tricked and being ripped off. normally a placid woman, she became a small ball of fury when she tasted the bottle of water. almost launching herself across the bar, she grabbed the barman and yelled some very unsavoury things at him.
it was at this point that dad decided taking her home was a very good idea.
so it was that, at 1a.m, i opened the door to see my father, sniggering like a schoolboy at my incredibly inebriated mother, who appeared to be trying to kick-start an invisible motorbike. she was actually trying to step over the doorstep, without success. dad helped her inside and told me what had been happening, before saying he would get mum to bed. satisfied and amused, i went back to watching my film.
half an hour later, i heard a strange noise coming from the hallway. it was like a small dog growling. intrigued, i went to investigate. seeing that the downstairs bathroom light was on, i went towards the open doorway with some small amount of trepidation.
there, slumped upon the seat, pants around her ankles, was my mum. fast asleep and snoring.
when i finally stopped laughing, i fetched dad to help me decant mum into bed.
now, every time she gives me grief for being hungover or for an injury sustained from being fuckwittedly drunk, i remind her of this.
i'm NEVER letting her live this one down.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:40, 2 replies)

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:37, 2 replies)
My Wonky Mum
She has this weird thing where the left side of her body behaves differently to the right. This is apparently quite harmless, but it's a bit weird. Mainly because she only sweats on one side of her body. When she used to play netball, into her forties, it would always be really strange that she'd come home with the right side of her clothes drenched in sweat and the left side completely dry.

When she drinks, which she doesn't very much, she also experiences occasional loss of control on only the one side of her body, making her remarkably uncoordinated.

When I was growing up, me and my Dad always had to be careful when we went out for a meal or a few drinks in case she had problems, and 'crabwalked'.

The worst example was when we went out for a family celebration in the local once. She had far too much champagne, stood up from the table, and flailed across the room sideways into the bar as her left tried to walk forward and her right went sideways. We had to explain to everyone else in the room that she had a 'nervous condition' and wasn't just totally legless.

Unfortunately no one believed it and she never went back to the same place again, embarrassed that everyone apparently thought she was a total pisshead.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:17, Reply)
I keep remembering Robin Williams's commentary on why he quit drinking.
"It's not like you can come home and say to your kid, 'Hey, here's a switch! Daddy's gonna throw up on YOU!'"
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:16, Reply)
Oh fuck, I feel like Bernard Manning... But my missus... Well, it was her first night out after our sprog sprogged and she managed to piss up the stairs then fall into his Moses basket, breaking it into a billion pieces.

Luckily, I'd already smothered him earlier that night.

EDIT: I didn't really smother him.

I dropped him down the stairs.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:08, 2 replies)

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:02, Reply)

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 18:00, Reply)
Bollocks, ah well, at least it's my b3ta birthday.
(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 17:59, 4 replies)
my mum did done a drink once lol

(, Thu 24 Feb 2011, 17:59, 6 replies)

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