Family HolidaysBack in the 80s when my Dad got made redundant (hello Dad!), he spent all the redundancy money on one of those big motor caravans.
Us kids loved it, apart from when my sister threw up on my sleeping bag, but looking back I'm not so sure my mum did. There was a certain tension every time the big van was even mentioned, let alone driven around France for weeks on end with her still having to cook and do all the washing.
What went wrong, what went right, and how did you survive the shame of having your family with you as a teenager?
(
chthonic, Thu 2 Aug 2007, 14:33)
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Man love... is best enjoyed, well, not at all.
When I was 16, family CerberaSpeedTwelve went to Barbados together. Me, three other siblings, both parents.
The villa only had two bedrooms, and three double beds. The adults decided the only way to sleep everyone would be sis + mum, bro + bro, and me + dad.
At the time, me and my dad had a safe maximum contact time of ten minutes. And now I was to sleep with him, literally together, no sleeping bags or nothing, for a week.
I never went on a family holiday again. Not even four years later when they went skiing, which is something I always wanted to do. A combination of spite, and an internal beacon warning me not to.
I fashioned my family philosophy then. "I don't holiday with my family. Not to protect me ... but to protect them from me."
(, Thu 2 Aug 2007, 16:29, Reply)
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