I love my family, really I do. They look out for me, they make me laugh and they try to do what is best for me.
It’s just that, when it comes to spending any great deal of time with them (i.e. all Christmas) they do drive me mental! When my Dad isn’t nagging me to do the ironing/hovering/any chore he can’t be arsed to do, my Mum is gossiping about people I don’t know/have no interest in. When the rents aren’t pissing me off, my brother is trying to rugby tackle me (damn those Warrington Wolves for inspiring him!) or my sister is….well actually my sister doesn’t anger me so much, but her mess in our bedroom does!
When you are used to the freedom of University, where you can come and go as you please and do whatever you like, the rules your parents set can be hard to follow. Take last Tuesday as case in point:
I stumbled in from town VERY drunk, (come on you have to be to enjoy the chavtastic Warrington) and consequently fell over on my bedroom floor. This woke up my sister. She raged at me. Her raging woke up Dad. He raged at me. He is still raging at me now!! Seriously, had I stumbled into my house in Cardiff in that state, my boys would have still been awake, playing GT4, and would have cared not.
Then we get onto the Grandparents/Aunties/Uncles/Cousins that you are forced to visit over the festive season. I think I am going to invest in a tape recorder to say the following for me: “Yeah I’m still in Uni at Cardiff. I’m in my second year, its ok I suppose. No I’m not courting anyone!”
Having said all this, I am loving proper food!