Three weep Bitterly in Abersoch

Five Day Break
I have to admit the prospect of five days of less responsibilities did indeed sound like a break to me, and I did encourage Fecky to go, but I was not fully aware of the dubious supervision and care that would (not be) offered.


Dubious Parenting Skills
Its taken me now almost five years of giving the benefit of the doubt, and when I tell this tail I think you would agree that there are lots of kinds of parents out there, caring ones who smother their children and don’t mean to, ones that like to do things as a family, ones where the mum stays at home enabling everyone to have more free time (not knocking it quite jealous really, as I examine a school shirt and wonder if we can get another day out of it, sniffing the pits and rubbing a smudge off a collar - yeah another day will be just fine), i could go on and on...... so hear is the tale.

Calenders checked (not)
The three recently left schoolers wanted to go to Abersoch and stay in a family caravan, they got a lift down there off a dad (possibly bullied into it) I dropped my feckles off with £20, 2 toilet rolls, 1 pizza, 24 chicken goujons (bogof), a loaf, 4 litres of milk, pot noodles and cheese.

The other two girls had everything they thought they needed, the next morning they woke up and mother nature (that bitch) had played a cruel and wicked trick on them (yes all three) despite them all having different body clocks, in a caravan in the middle of a large campsite, all three of them needed the “feminine hygiene aisle” and not a tampax in site, the one suffering the most stayed back at base and the other two (yeah not laughing now at my insistence on packing the Andrex are you) unlocked two bikes and rode into the nearest town in search of a chemist and emergency provisions. They got soaked. The campsite was hit by flash floods and lightening warnings, but all managed to get sorted and fed. The sobbing phone calls I received the next morning didn’t do much to instil confidence in me, as the tail got somewhat worse.

Vacate the Accommodation
The family had come down to the caravan and told the three girls they had to vacate the premises and as the campsite owner “didn’t like people putting up extra accommodation” they needed to find a campsite, this is where the dubious parenting skills really comes into its own, at around 11.00pm, them, the tent were dropped off at a popular area near the beach called “devils cove”, they set up the tent and once the normal parent found out where they had been left, they were prompting collected at 2.30am, and spent the rest of the time sleeping on a caravan floor (the tent was stolen by surfers no doubt, as it wasn’t there when they went to retrieve it the next day).

Night Out
Me and hubs and the eldest were all set for a wedding reception (snap attached) and as I applied my lippy single handedly (it’s a new revolutionary design by Avon) I was forced to listen to bitter weeping. I explained that we couldn’t come and collect them, it was only one more night, and to think of it as a precursor to the festival experience, but without the music, bands or organisation.

Of course its all back to normal now, by that I mean, sink full of pots (there not all mine), Have you sorted out that phone contract yet (no I have all month to do it), can you please get off face book its midnight (it’s the summer hols for gods sake get a life) Ahhh, my life, never was I so settled and actually quite happy than when I lived with Mr and Mrs Lamb, on Broadstone Road and paid £50 a month keep, had my tea cooked everynight, my clothes washed and went out four nights out of seven………


Mahoooooooo X