I don’t know about you but I enjoy reunions. I had a reunion with a few old schoolmates last week. It was good fun, recalling all the antics.
We got away with murder. There is one story in particular that sums up what we were like, back in the day. But before I share it there is something else that happened during the week. It gave me cause for much excitement. This blog is officially in the running for Ireland’s most coveted prize in blogging. I will have to pull the socks up and get serious for the next few months. You can view the long-list here http://www.blogawardsireland.com/category/long-list-2014/
To see the words “Trucker Turning Write” in the list gave me such a smile. I knew it was nominated thanks to Liz at http://www.lizard100blog.wordpress.com and my wife who both encouraged me to give it a go. Even if nothing comes of it the following clip sums up the feeling of simply being on the nominee list.
It’s Saturday night and I am treating myself to a few beers at home. I enjoy a beer at weekends. I never really developed a taste for anything stronger. But…
There was a friend of mine whose parents were teetotallers. They didn’t drink alcohol but they always kept a bottle or two about the house, for visitors, you know. My friend was a normal teenager, curious about all things taboo. Sometimes when he got the chance he would try a drop behind his parents’ back. Vodka was his preference. He would consume as much as the circumstances would allow and simply top the bottle up with water.
This practice continued from midsummer all the way to Christmas until the bottle was so watered down that it was basically…just water.
All was fine until his parents invited the neighbours around for “a wee drop of Christmas cheer”. Being typically Irish the neighbours accepted generous top-ups without complaining about the vodka. But being typically Irish they went around the neighbourhood the following day telling everybody about the Christmas Scrooges who tried to pass off a bottle of water as vodka.
It didn’t take long for word to filter back to the parents. They were in shock. They promptly did what every Irish parent would do…totally overlooked anything domestic; their sons were good boys, beyond suspicion.
No, they took the nearly empty bottle and drove straight into town, to the off-licence (liquor store) where the bottle was initially purchased and demanded a refund and an apology. After much arguing, believe it or not, they got their apology, having somehow managed to convince the storekeeper that somebody working in his establishment had been helping themselves behind his back.
The perfect crime.
Those were the days. They don’t make parents like they used to.
Teens? I reckon teens will be teens in every generation.
Thank you for reading
ps…Good luck to all nominees.