independent

Wednesday 13 December 2017

Amazingly, we are still talking to each other after three weeks holiday together

By Justine O'Mahony

I flew back from holidays thinking Michael O'Leary should probably start weighing passengers instead of baggage. He'd make far more money. I packed on at least half a stone in the three weeks I was away. Can you imagine if everyone on the plane did the same? He'd make a bloody fortune!

The kids have started calling me 'squidgy' with The Youngest proclaiming that her favourite part of my body was my bingo wings, 'because they're so soft and squishy!'

So after 21 days of total and utter over indulgence, there's a seat with my name on it at my local Slimming World. Bring on the Muller Light. I can guarantee I will last approximately a week and lose 1lb. There is a pattern to this behaviour. It's called having no willpower.

On a positive note we are still talking to each other after spending three weeks, 24/7 in each other's company. There were no major rows although I did get slightly miffed when the 15-year-old starting counting my gin and tonic consumption. You'd think he'd know an adult's alcohol intake is allowed be endless on holidays.

He on the other hand decided three weeks was way too long to be spending with one's parents and maybe next year he might just come for one week. His patience wore extremely thin when myself and Himself failed to grasp the concept of Snapchat streaks, (can anyone enlighten me?) and he refused to post what I considered a decent photo.

'Why are you taking pictures of the corner of your head and the floor?' I asked him. He explained it was a streak and when I asked him what the purpose of it was he informed me it was to snap someone everyday for as many days as you can.

'Why would you send someone a picture of one of your eyes though? Why not send them a nice photo of you. Or better still take one of me!!' I was never one to shy away from the camera.

He looked at me in horror, shrugged his shoulders and went back to his phone, tapping away and ignoring us.

That's when I knew we'd lost him! This was more than likely our last family holiday together. The truth of the matter is we sort of bore him and no matter how hard we try to entertain him or make him laugh, he'd much rather spend time with his friends.

It's a hard pill to swallow, knowing your own child no longer finds you witty and fascinating. I'm not sure he ever did but it was a hell of a lot easier to impress him when he was seven. There'll be no more trips to the Aqua Park, no more games of cards on the balcony at night, no more Lucky Lucky men calling him Del Boy while he tries to stop me buying fake handbags. Next year he says he might stay at home with our friends and hang out with the gang.

Still, at least he won't be there to count my gin and tonics. Every cloud!

Wexford People

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