I've confessed for me, now my family...
I have the great honour of being in part the cause of 4 out of 5 of my sister's drunken vomiting sessions. The most memorable of which starts as an innocuous drinking and herbal ingesting session. A little later on, after returning from clubbing, she'd invited a few of her male friends round and we were dressing up in wrapping paper. No, just me and her, at least I had the sense to keep my underwear on though... Long and short of it, verrrrr drunk at end of night. At grandmother's house as she's away for a bit, sister feels the need to be cleansed internally, but knows she won't make it to the loo, so calmly opens grannie's bottom bedside drawer, empties contents, and refills. Closes bottom drawer. She did clean it, but the whole thing struck me as so sweet!

My dad, well, step-dad... All during my teenage years the bloke was teetotal and refused to let me deviate from his enforced weirdness (so I did it all in secret, obviously), but come the time when I've been at uni a while and been drunk at him enough, he suddenly has a change of heart!!!
Cue friends of the family inviting my parents out for a meal...
Mum, who was driving, said that dad had clearly drunk a fair amount, but it was only when he made a quick exit to the toilet (adjacent to the room everyone else was in), and started calling out to Huey. The family dog was obviously struck by empathy, and stood outside said bathroom door, howling in time to my dad's hurling.
They packaged him into the car, wrapped in a wallace and grommit duvet, and clutching a teddy bear shaped hot water bottle, where he lasted all the way home, bless, before spewing out of the car door.
His "food poisoning" lasted all the next day, and kept him rough for a little while after that. My mum called me up at uni to gloat while he was sick in bed. Got to love her!
(Imp of destruction, Wed 25 Aug 2004, 17:27, Reply)