This post may sound like a moan, but let me first qualify things by saying that I love my parents dearly; I would walk through Hell for them without question.
The same, however, cannot be said of my Mum's unswerving and obsessive fascination with her own (and by extension - my) family.
Over the last two days I have had chapter and verse with barely a pause for breath of ...
My second cousin's 18th birthday party - which I went out of my way to miss. How the party girl's friend dressed totally inappopriately and spent the evening flashing her apparently very ample arse because her skirt was too short, I had how my cousin (the party girl's Mum) sat in the corner on her tablet all night, how my other cousin let her two toddlers run riot all evening, with the additional bonus of a running commentary of at least three of their tantrums, and how my uncle got drunk on Bishop's Finger and fell over in the car park.
Then at various times over the weekend I had the usual rundown on her older sister's hip, how her older sister's partner is such an embarrassment (I lost count after twelve individual examples of this), how her younger sister runs around after her three dysfunctional kids who are all in their thirties and completely incapable of thinking for themselves, how my cousin, Marie, is SUCH a disappontment to the family (I disagree vehemently on this), how her brother's wife is a neurotic hyperchondriac, how her brother in law is sixty in October so I can expect an invitation to his party (I may or may not have let out an involuntary whimper at this news), and how cute my cousin's new baby is, and so it went on ...
It really made me realise why I love my friends so much!
*hugs you all*