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)
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My family do a nice line in these...
My Dad's side of the family do a nice line in drunked punch-ups at family gatherings but it's my mum's side that come out winners...
My mum is prone to going a bit mental sometimes - a couple of years ago at Christmas she called one of her son-in-laws a wanker for no good reason, threatened to slap one of her grandsons for not sitting down, and when my other sister visited threw not just a monumental strop because the dinner was burned but also Christmas decorations at her other two grandchildren, aged three and five, despite the fact they had nothing to do with Christmas fayre being Carbon Cuisine.
Thing is, she gets it from her mum...
I have mentioned my family's fondness for 'Granny Jackboots' before on these hallowed pages, but in terms of feuds she really is the winner. Let us go back in time to the early 1920s when she was little.
My Great-Grandfather was often away on business trips a lot, especially overseas, which in those days meant getting on a bloody big boat and taking weeks to get where you were going. As a result he often brought back presents for his two daughters, Joyce and Olive, of whom my gran, Olive, was the younger by three years.
On one occasion, the girl's father returned home with teddy bears from the US as presents. Owing to my great aunty Joyce being the older sibling, she got a bigger bear. Now time passed as time is wont to do. through the Second World War when my mum was born and into the mid nineties, during my great aunt's last, senile, faltering days. Bearly able to recognise her own reflection, never mind the faces of her relatives Joyce eventually died and it seemed for the best. My gran on the other hand soldiered on for another ten years after that. In time, she too began to lose her marbles, often thinking I was the paperboy and my mum was just one of the nurses in her care home, however one thing still remained burned in her Alzheimer's riddled brain up until her dying day.
Joyce got a bigger bear.
If anyone can match bearing such an insignificant grudge for over 80 years, they have my click.
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 22:42, 1 reply)
My Dad's side of the family do a nice line in drunked punch-ups at family gatherings but it's my mum's side that come out winners...
My mum is prone to going a bit mental sometimes - a couple of years ago at Christmas she called one of her son-in-laws a wanker for no good reason, threatened to slap one of her grandsons for not sitting down, and when my other sister visited threw not just a monumental strop because the dinner was burned but also Christmas decorations at her other two grandchildren, aged three and five, despite the fact they had nothing to do with Christmas fayre being Carbon Cuisine.
Thing is, she gets it from her mum...
I have mentioned my family's fondness for 'Granny Jackboots' before on these hallowed pages, but in terms of feuds she really is the winner. Let us go back in time to the early 1920s when she was little.
My Great-Grandfather was often away on business trips a lot, especially overseas, which in those days meant getting on a bloody big boat and taking weeks to get where you were going. As a result he often brought back presents for his two daughters, Joyce and Olive, of whom my gran, Olive, was the younger by three years.
On one occasion, the girl's father returned home with teddy bears from the US as presents. Owing to my great aunty Joyce being the older sibling, she got a bigger bear. Now time passed as time is wont to do. through the Second World War when my mum was born and into the mid nineties, during my great aunt's last, senile, faltering days. Bearly able to recognise her own reflection, never mind the faces of her relatives Joyce eventually died and it seemed for the best. My gran on the other hand soldiered on for another ten years after that. In time, she too began to lose her marbles, often thinking I was the paperboy and my mum was just one of the nurses in her care home, however one thing still remained burned in her Alzheimer's riddled brain up until her dying day.
Joyce got a bigger bear.
If anyone can match bearing such an insignificant grudge for over 80 years, they have my click.
( , Thu 12 Nov 2009, 22:42, 1 reply)
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