Rose-tinted spectacles

“Trust me, I’ve been there”

CHRISTMAS IS COMING. HAPPY families, beware. When your kids are over 12 the fun stops, the presents are crap and everyone falls out. It’s no wonder some decide to up sticks and spend it abroad.

Family holidays used to be lovely, didn’t they? All those sun-bleached memories of you as a cute toddler making perfect sandcastles on the beach, your young-looking and energetic parents laughing the days away, your siblings providing endless entertainment. It’s a shame it all has to end.

I’ve just come back from a family trip to Mallorca – our first jaunt en famille since my sisters and I were young – and boy what a difference. The arguments began before we’d even met at the airport.

I, as the youngest, get horribly annoyed by the implication that I am still disorganised and will forget my passport. My mum gets upset that my sister is bringing her Blackberry. My dad just despairs and wishes he had a son.

Perhaps the memories of holidays past are so sweet because we don’t remember that much and only have the smiley, blurry photos to prove it. Perhaps our parents were spitting blood and we were spitting out our dummies – just in a hotel room rather than a house.

The hotel rooms in Mallorca were lovely. For about a minute. As us sisters unpacked, we eyed each other’s clothes up like spoilt three year-olds. In the bathroom I made sure my toiletries just slightly edged their way into her half of the sink. Just because. And then we had an almighty row about the wardrobe situation and I flounced out, slamming the door behind me like a pre-menstrual teen.

Realising I really was too old to go running to mummy – I snuck outside for a cigarette. Big mistake. Turns out mum was outside having a G&T on the terrace, following a row with dad – about the wardrobe situation. Cue tearful disbelief that I hadn’t given up smoking last year as I may have suggested. And implication that perhaps that’s why I can’t get a boyfriend. Because of my smelly smoker’s breath. Stub out cigarette and join her on the G&Ts. Soon sister skulks down and joins in – and finally Dad arrives for a handful of peanuts and ends up staying for a bellyful of gin too.