Parents Are Evil
Now everyone is someone's kid, right? So nearly everyone out there has been mortally embarrassed by their parents. It's like a ritual that one has to go through. Now, my parents being the people that birthed me, are slightly more prone to embarrassing their children than others and I feel the need to share this story because I'm slightly inebriated at the moment:
A cousin of mine, Mel, recently announced her engagement and then today she arrived at our house for dinner, and told us she was pregnant. So what do my parents do? Tell her it's lovely, gush over it, and then take her out to a pub. A PUB. They took a PREGNANT woman out to a PUB to celebrate. I can not stress the fact that whatever brains I may have I certainly didn't get them from my parents.
Mel, being a lovely, lovely woman, insisted I go along (plus, I thought she was pretty sure that my parents wouldn't allow me to drink either so she wouldn't be alone). Unfortunately that wasn't the case and my Dad slammed a pint in front of me. A pint. Now, I'm not a teetotaler but I'm not that fond of beer. Or alcohol, normally. But on this one occasion I accepted and, well, drank more than one pint.
What was the embarrassing thing about the night you ask? Well, you see, it was an Abba night. Well, technically a '70s night but anyone who's ever been in one knows that it makes it's way 'round to an Abba night. My Dad hates Abba and my Mum isn't a fan but, with a bit of alcohol in them neither seemed to care and started singing karaoke. And gyrating. Not simply dancing, gyrating! It was disturbing enough and embarrassing as it was because my Dad used to work in the bloody pub and I used to come in every day and badger him for a bit so everyone knows I'm his daughter. So random blokes were walking up to me and going "Isn't your da somethink?"
I was *this* close to screaming, "He's not SOMETHINK he's something! Something terrible!" *This close*
I was pretty sure they couldn't make it worse. They did. They dragged me up there. And started telling everyone (through KARAOKE MICS) ABOUT MY CHILDHOOD AND THE "CUTE" THINGS I USED TO DO!
I ran out of there. I am not ashamed to say this because it's true. I ran like a coward. And now I have no idea why I felt the need to type this but I do. Because this way I'll remember tomorrow to hate them.
Ha! Even my alcohol addled brain has some sense!
A cousin of mine, Mel, recently announced her engagement and then today she arrived at our house for dinner, and told us she was pregnant. So what do my parents do? Tell her it's lovely, gush over it, and then take her out to a pub. A PUB. They took a PREGNANT woman out to a PUB to celebrate. I can not stress the fact that whatever brains I may have I certainly didn't get them from my parents.
Mel, being a lovely, lovely woman, insisted I go along (plus, I thought she was pretty sure that my parents wouldn't allow me to drink either so she wouldn't be alone). Unfortunately that wasn't the case and my Dad slammed a pint in front of me. A pint. Now, I'm not a teetotaler but I'm not that fond of beer. Or alcohol, normally. But on this one occasion I accepted and, well, drank more than one pint.
What was the embarrassing thing about the night you ask? Well, you see, it was an Abba night. Well, technically a '70s night but anyone who's ever been in one knows that it makes it's way 'round to an Abba night. My Dad hates Abba and my Mum isn't a fan but, with a bit of alcohol in them neither seemed to care and started singing karaoke. And gyrating. Not simply dancing, gyrating! It was disturbing enough and embarrassing as it was because my Dad used to work in the bloody pub and I used to come in every day and badger him for a bit so everyone knows I'm his daughter. So random blokes were walking up to me and going "Isn't your da somethink?"
I was *this* close to screaming, "He's not SOMETHINK he's something! Something terrible!" *This close*
I was pretty sure they couldn't make it worse. They did. They dragged me up there. And started telling everyone (through KARAOKE MICS) ABOUT MY CHILDHOOD AND THE "CUTE" THINGS I USED TO DO!
I ran out of there. I am not ashamed to say this because it's true. I ran like a coward. And now I have no idea why I felt the need to type this but I do. Because this way I'll remember tomorrow to hate them.
Ha! Even my alcohol addled brain has some sense!