Number one son and girlfriend have gone off on their holidays to Tunisia for a week. First holiday together (bless). I sent them off with a holiday survival kit. Pills for the trots, pills for the hangovers, plasters, antiseptic cream, you name it I bought it. Well, they don't think about these things, and I can't cope with phone calls at 3am along the lines of "I've been bitten, I've scratched it, it's spread and now it's dropped off" It's too stressful.
We told them that it would be very hot and maybe stay out of the heat around noon time. No 1 son said. "Nah, it won't be that hot, it's almost the end of summer" Doh! Not in North Africa Einstein. I blame his Father, FOR EVERYTHING! I'm allowed to, we're divorced.
Anyhow, this jetting off for a some sun and fun made me quite nostalgic for the when I was only a young slip of a girl, and I used to go off with the girls for a fortnight of sun, sea and the other s thing. Sangria that's it.
It would take too long to explain the all the daft stuff we used to get up to. So I wrote this little poem.
Hope you enjoy it.........
MAJORCA HERE WE COME
We're off to Majorca tomorrow
We’re going to get us some sun
A fortnight of sin and duty free gin
In a glass with umbrellas and fun
I do hope we get a nice villa
The toilets last year had us shocked
Tracy flushed down those things off the telly with wings
And half of the island got blocked
The cockroaches were thick as a carpet
Running all over the place
They got under my feet but I thought it was neat
When they helped me to carry my case
The beach was an oil slick with pebbles
I tried the paella in vain
'Cause later that night I was shivering and white
And I saw it again and again
The British blokes brought disappointment
They were rude and did nothing but brag
And Barry the Biker - should not have worn lycra
He looked like a boil in the bag
We went for a treck on a Donkey
Our antics were somewhat gymnastic
My saddle went slack but I clung on its back
Just by willpower and knicker elastic
I'm hoping to bring back some presents
A sombrero and a rude stick of rock
And some duty-free beer - unlike last year
When my gifts were a bit of a shock
I did bring my Mum back some perfume
And something unscheduled as well
'Cause in the dark Spanish heat a brickie called Pete
'Caused more than my ankles to swell
But I've promised this time I'll be careful
I've learned you must pay for your sins
So packed with the lurex are three dozen Durex
And Mum's taking care of the Twins
