#5 - The suffering

Listen, I enjoy family holidays. I (mostly) love spending time with my kids while doing things we don't do day in, day out. Things like going to museums (and being dragged around by a four-year-old so unable to read more than a few words on each display), walking along a beautiful beach (and having to carry a four-year-old and from that point on making the focus purely about survival), and walking around historic towns (and having to carry a four-year-old who refuses to walk because a poodle walked in her eyesight). I. Love. Them. 

In all seriousness, though, I've recently returned from a brilliant holiday to Dorset/Devon, during which we did many great things, but rather than fill your hearts with joy about all the fun things we got up to, here’s one that I wish hadn’t happened.This is the story of how I almost pissed all over my family’s happiness.

Shouldn't have drunk that coffee. Never drink too much coffee before a long journey.

If I had to pick one holiday moment that I fear will live with me forever, it's this one. I needed a pee about 20 minutes into a near-three-hour journey. I don’t drive (my wife does all the driving despite growing calls for me to learn), am a grown adult who shouldn’t need to pee just after we’ve left the house, and we wanted to make good time for a mid-way stop off for lunch. I was in no position to call for a detour.

An hour in, I knew things were going to be unpleasant, and I wasn't against using my children in my quest for relief. 30 minutes later every little bump, every minor G pulled by taking a corner, every movement, felt dangerous. Time for some top class parenting.

"Kids, are you both OK back there? Either of you need a wee?" I asked hopefully, yet completely innocently with no amount of self-interest whatsoever.

"No, we're fine," my eldest replied.

"Are you sure? We've got a long way to go," I add, my voice notably different due to the prolonged clenching.

"Do you need a wee, Dad?" my son asked, a dose of devilry in his tone.

I had no idea what gave it away. Perhaps the agonised groans every few moments out of fear I was about to make this holiday one I'd never live down. My kids weren't playing ball, but they did find great amusement in my misery.

I have a tendency to just say things I read on signs, which I happily did as we passed through the town of Sheet seconds later.

“I need a sheeeet” my wife said out of the blue alongside an accent I still can’t place, momentarily lowering my defenses and almost causing an incident big enough for the local news.

Ironically, had she actually needed a sheeeet we would have found a toilet and this whole nightmare would have been over. A cruel twist. On the journey home a week later I reflected on this moment free from the all-consuming desire to urinate, and told my wife it was my highlight of the entire holiday.

After another hour of excruciating bladder control we finally arrived at Salisbury, in what might be one of the biggest car parks I've ever seen. There had to be a toilet here. There was. Hallelujah!

It was closed.

Ahh, big Sainsbury's stood high above like an angel from heaven.

No toilet!

What was going to happen next? We had a big bag of nappies in the car…

FML!

Like a Terminator pursuing Sarah Connor, I was single-minded in my determination to find a place to pee. I won't lie. "Falling" into the lovely narrow river and just pissing myself in there under the cover of being drenched did cross my mind. Thumb up to show I'm alright. Mission accomplished. But no.

It was lunch time, so we just had to find somewhere to eat that my kids would accept, and I'd be fine. A cafe, perfect, don't care what you all order, I'll be back!

It was done. Sweet relief. And the pea frittata was lovely.

Sometimes the best things come from the worst situations (He-Man-style morality explanation ending!).

News of a possible delay to Playground Games’ Fable is no doubt disappointing, but at the same time I’m entirely happy to wait and let them cook, releasing at the best possible time for the game to succeed. Ditto for every other game that isn’t ready and needs some extra time in the oven. I don’t have time these days to play all the best games, let alone the unfinished ones.

This newsletter isn’t entirely about ruining my career (and marriage) by talking about my bladder issues (I have other interests too). I’ll have a think about some other bits and pieces and round them up in the quick reviews below. I’m a critic, too, you see.

Things I can review:

• It’s All Coming Back to Me Now (Celine Dion): On our drive home from holiday Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” came on a 90s playlist. This is a proper power ballad, and I remarked to my wife that I thought it was a Meatloaf song. She agreed. My phone, as usual, was under the control of my four-year-old, so I was unable to find out what the deal was, but I said I’d report on it in my newsletter, which I’m doing now. Turns out Meat Loaf did record it, but long after Celine. That’s not the whole story, though, which you can read all about on Wikipedia. 5 bats out of 5 hells.
• Scones (complimentary in our holiday barn, but available in all supermarkets): Imagine my face when I enter the holiday barn, go into the kitchen to check out the welcome basket, and find four delicious looking scones. Plus jam! I head immediately to the fridge, my fingers crossed that I’d see the most beautiful sight. And there it was: clotted cream!. 5 creams on top of 5 jams. 
• UNO (Mattel Games): One of the joys of having kids of different ages is seeing the youngest age into games. Sometimes we need to tweak rules so everyone can play together, but we tried UNO while on holiday and our four-year-old took to it wonderfully. Thankfully at the moment she enjoys being made to pick up extra cards. My son doesn’t, and he frequently tells me that I hate him. I play to win, mate. Get good or go home. 5 Blue out of 5 Red.