Holiday Hellfire!

     It's August! It's Friday afternoon! I'm on holiday! This can only mean one thing... yes! Itttttt'ssssss Holiday Hellfire! How many points will you get? Fingers on buzzers, teams. Let's kick things off with The Planning round!

     The childrens's countdown. Gain two points every time you have to answer 'When are we going? And when will that be? How many months is that? And how many days?' Bonus points if one or more children has a Norfolk intonation that makes even the bluntest statement of fact sound like a question.

     You and your other half. One of you is a planner, the other is... not so much. Two points for each time you endure a minor panic over: spending money, passports, online check-in, route planning, travel times. If you achieve three thinlipped conversations in the 24hrs before departure, take a further FIVE bonus points!

     One for the laydeez... TEN points available here, if you realise, the evening before you leave, that despite spending hundreds of pounds on bikini waxes in the past twelve months, you forgot to book an appointment before your holiday. And will be displaying your 'kinitache every time you wear your bikini.

     OHHH-KAYYY! Second round... TRAVEL!

     Faced with the sartorial dilemma of what to wear when travelling from 8° to 33°... what do you do? Freeze your tits off, wearing a thin cotton dress in the airport carpark at 04:30? Or wear too many layers, disembark the plane, overheat, collapse and leave a puddle of sweat on the tarmac? Waiting for your answer... going to have to hurry you... AHA! Trick question! No one ever gets it right!

     Baggage reclaim time, contestants! Five points for each time you put your back out, taking the wrong suitcase off the carousel and have to put it back.

     Aaand now, into the arrivals hall! If you manage to successfully create a mutinous silence between you and your other half, FIVE points! A bonus TEN points if this erupts into a row as one of you struggles with two small, mobile, demanding and recalcitrant beings with minds of their own, and the other one of you is wrangling your children.

     Commercial coffee and fag break...

     We're BAAAACK! Now, in this round, you can lose points, as well as win them. Only play if you're SURE...

     TEN points if your children announce they're 'BORRRRRRD-UH' within three hours of arrival at your destination. Five points if it's within 24hrs. Lose THIRTY points if they don't say it during the holiday at all.

     Lose FIVE points if you don't have an alcoholic drink in the first hour after arrival.

     How many times do you look the wrong way when crossing the road? Once - lose FIVE points. Twice - scores stay the SAME. Three times plus? TWENTY points!

     Everyone ready for the quickfire round? Now remember, you automatically gain TWO points every time one of the following occurs:

     Being hideously ashamed of fellow Brits

     Drinking alcohol before lunchtime

     Entirely unrelatedly, having an unplanned siesta

     Excusing everything with the key phrase 'Why not? We're on holiday!'

     Nightly arm comparisons with your family as to whom is most brown.

     Trying to remember what you said/did last night after two bottles of wine, and finding facebook and twitter to be an excellent resource for this.

     Overestimating the warmth of the pool, sliding in, gasping so hard your bellybutton hits your spine, and you lose control of your arms, causing them to flail up and out, like a Thunderbird.

     Ordering food in Spanish, feeling stupidly proud, then ultimately confused when your meal arrives and there's at least one thing you cocked up on.

     Chucking a dress over your bikini after a swim, and realising, ten minutes later that you look like you have leaky breastfeeding nipples.

     Taking a photo of your drink, with the sole intention of sharing it on social media.

     Being too hot to care that your stretchmarks, crepey tits, withered stomach and 'kinitache are on display to the world.

     Leaving your sunglasses on an unshaded surface. Regretting this when you put them on and your face slides down to your flipflops.

     Trying to remember the Spanish word for bread (pan), and all your brain can do is scream BROT BROT BROT at you, even though you haven't studied German for nearly twenty years.

     Saying 'hmm, you are a little pink...', meaning 'MY EYES MY EYES OH MY GOD YOUR SKIN IS MELTING MINE EYES'.


     Aaaaand finally... trying to make sense of hastily scribbled down notes, almost entirely washed away by smears of sweat, suntan lotion, and condensation from alcoholic drinks. So you can blog. On holiday.... ;-)