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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Arse bitingI was 10, my mum took me and brother on some cheapy trip to Portugal. We stayed in some dodgy hotel for 2 weeks and I made friends with the owner's huge Rottweiller type dog.
One day I walked up to it to say hello and it just went for me. I ran and it chased, gaining on me. The dog was on a long chain and just before it got to the end of it, the dog managed to bite me right on the arse. It hurt like hell.
The owner (some mad old Potuguese woman) came running out babbling, pulled down my shorts and pants and rubbed some red stuff into my bleeding arse. All in front of the crowd of people who had come to see what all of the noise was about. Nice one crazy lady.
(, Fri 3 Aug 2007, 13:00, Reply)
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