Family Feuds
Pooster tells us that a relative was once sent to the shops to buy an onion, while the rest of the family went on a daytrip while he was gone. Meanwhile, whole sections of our extended kin still haven't got over a wedding brawl fifteen years ago – tell us about families at war.
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 12:24)
Pooster tells us that a relative was once sent to the shops to buy an onion, while the rest of the family went on a daytrip while he was gone. Meanwhile, whole sections of our extended kin still haven't got over a wedding brawl fifteen years ago – tell us about families at war.
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 12:24)
« Go Back
A Pig
Until I was about 30 I thought my Mum's dad (my Grandad) was dead.
Then I found out the truth.
Apparently he had kept pigs (I did have vague recollections of being very small and at someone's house where there was a pig sty, but I didn't know it was my Grandad's house) and when his favourite pig died he wanted to bury it - I can understand why he might not want to eat it I suppose.
Now he only had a small garden, but my parents had a massive garden, so a solution to his problem was at hand.
However, my Mum had other ideas. Me and my brothers were all under 5 years old so, on the basis that a fucking enormous great dead pig might just present a health hazard to 3 small boys in the height of summer, she said no.
He got the hump and they didn't speak for 25 years.
There was a deathbed reconciliation I believe but I don't know the details as I wasn't speaking to my parents at the time - I'd had to throw them out of my son's christening for getting drunk and being rude to all my friends - but that's another story.
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 13:11, 2 replies)
Until I was about 30 I thought my Mum's dad (my Grandad) was dead.
Then I found out the truth.
Apparently he had kept pigs (I did have vague recollections of being very small and at someone's house where there was a pig sty, but I didn't know it was my Grandad's house) and when his favourite pig died he wanted to bury it - I can understand why he might not want to eat it I suppose.
Now he only had a small garden, but my parents had a massive garden, so a solution to his problem was at hand.
However, my Mum had other ideas. Me and my brothers were all under 5 years old so, on the basis that a fucking enormous great dead pig might just present a health hazard to 3 small boys in the height of summer, she said no.
He got the hump and they didn't speak for 25 years.
There was a deathbed reconciliation I believe but I don't know the details as I wasn't speaking to my parents at the time - I'd had to throw them out of my son's christening for getting drunk and being rude to all my friends - but that's another story.
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 13:11, 2 replies)
Now that's what I call
Being pig-headed!
(Did you see what I did there?)
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 14:20, closed)
Being pig-headed!
(Did you see what I did there?)
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 14:20, closed)
« Go Back