Holidays

Last year was the first year we went on holiday without the boy, just the wife, Lucifer’s daughter and me, two weeks in Tenerife.

I was bored stiff, I was, never in a million years would I have thought I would have missed the gangling idiot and never in a million years would I tell the cunt even if I did.


Just sitting beside a pool in Tenerife might seem ideal, but I sweat like a rapist and can’t sit still in the heat for too long. Mrs, she can sit in a fucking sauna and still doesn’t sweat, she’s a weirdo. Lucifer’s daughter decided, we would spend the fortnight in the fucking pool, well, there is only so many fucking times a ball can be passed around in a pool, and I get too angry with obnoxious teenagers trying to out annoy every one.

Yes, I find it hard not to commit murder when it comes to such children, and their squawking parents.

Timothy, stop that this instant, you’ll have someone’s eye out.

Charlene, Charlene, please stop doing that, Charlene, please stop doing that, Charlene, please stop doing that, she was like a fucking broken record player and enough was enough.

I told Charlene if she didn’t stop fucking doing it, I was going to shave her fucking hair off, Charlene’s Father just sat there like a fucking poof, Charlene’s Mother tutted and turned her nose up at me every time she saw me after that. I didn’t give a toss, the cunts never came near the pool again.

Usually the plooky one would have been there, and at fifteen, sixteen, there is only so much time you can spend sitting beside a swimming pool, trying to look cool when your little sister is begging you to play with her and only so long you can sit at that age trying to conceal an obvious erection.

So me’n’the plooky one, we used to go away a walk, go to the beach, play football, and generally do anything other than sit at the pool.

Last year I didn’t have an outlet, I did go walking during the day, but it was over one hundred degrees and at forty I just look like an old pervert if I go to the beach on my own.

Four books read in the first week, six magazines read, adverts the lot and I had a tan like Adonis, I never said the body, stop sniggering. I was bored.

Thankfully, I had an MP3 with me to while away the hours and drown out any other Charlene’s beside the pool.

Now, I don’t know if you will be familiar with the song “Squeeze Box.” By a band called ‘The Who.’, if your not then fuck off. Legends they are legends and “Squeeze Box” is one of my favourite songs.

Singing and me don’t go, no its worse than that, I am a tuneless fog horn and I never sing no matter how drunk I get. Well, boredom took over, the Mrs was sunbathing away, Lucifer’s daughter was doing cartwheels in the fucking pool, surprise, surprise, and I don’t know why I did it. But I straddled Mrs, taking her by surprise, held onto her arms so she couldn’t get to my earplugs and I belted out the whole song “Squeeze Box” as loud as I could.

Embarrassed, is not the word to describe Mrs, she was simply fucking mortified.

Arsehole, arsehole, she kept repeating and Lucifer’s daughter, she refused point blank to come out of the pool.

I just lay back chuckling away to my self and she had to run out of things to throw at me, sooner or later.

After a half hour, Mrs was calming down, Lucifer’s daughter even came out for an iced lolly and a couple passing on their way to get ready for dinner, the fellow put his hand on my shoulder.

“The day job, big man, don’t give it up.”

That started Mrs off again, See you, see you, you’re a fucking arsehole.

True story that one.