Awkward Moment #18: The Paperboy

The rural welsh countryside is where we lay our scene for this most awkward of debacles. Tuesday night, roughly six miles outside of Abersoch, my parents and I find ourselves at a loss for how to pass the time. Welsh freeview offers a total of twelve channels to choose from and you’ve guessed it, nothing sparks interest. I can feel my bum going numb after sitting on the floor for too long, whilst Dad is stretched out on the sofa behind me. My phone pings. It’s Facebook: Phil Eccles has tagged you in a post. 
I swivel around. His face is hidden by his iPad. I roll my eyes. Turning back my phone I click on the red symbol.

Get the kettle on – with Emily Eccles near Abersoch, Gwynedd.
I sigh. 

“Ooh, why don’t we watch one of those films we picked up from Tesco’s?” My mum suggests from underneath a Slanket.

“Sounds good!” I reply, grateful for any form of evening entertainment. I scramble over to the DVD cupboard and read out the choices. “Let’s see, we’ve got Anna Karenina, Unknown, Sherlock Holmes…”
“Something with machine guns,” Dad declares. “None of this moody, Pride and Bloody Prejudice bollocks”.
“What about that one with Danny from Spooks? The Postman, was it?”
“The Paperboy?” I say as I spot it and wrench it from under the 20 year old Monopoly.
“That’s the one, let’s watch that.” 

…Oh, we watched it alright.

You know that awkward moment when you’re watching a film with your parents and suddenly two characters start, um…canoodling, so to speak? 

Ok fine, they were shagging. Relentlessly shagging. I didn’t even know what hit me and then BOOM it’s all over the screen on top of a washing machine.
And it doesn’t stop. Oh good god, make it stop.  My eyes widen, my brow furrows. Oh sweet baby Jesus no.

I can sense my dad shifting uncomfortably behind me. I hold my breath, unable to react in any way. I choose to simply remain with my eyes in the screen as if nothing is happening, as if they are having a cup of tea rather than causing a warrantee-breaking amount of damage to a washing machine.

“What the hell are we watching?” Dad mumbles under his breath, reaching over for the DVD case to examine the blurb more carefully. I steal a glance at my mum, who seems engrossed in something happening outside the window. I want to sink down in my chair but I’m already on the floor – there’s nowhere to sink down to! 

It would have been alright if it had stopped there. It didn’t. It carried on for what felt like a FREAKING ETERNITY. And there we sat, all of us too stubborn to move or make a sound whilst John and Nicole went at it like rabbits. The awkward balloon, turtle, whale and starfish were all present that night, and the whole time I’m mentally screaming WHY IS THIS HAPPENING HOW DID I LET THIS HAPPEN OH MY GOD

As the film ended and the credits rolled up the screen, silence descended upon the caravan. I realised I had to be the one to break the tension otherwise we’d never look each other in the eye again.
“Does anyone want a cup of tea?!?” I asked, a little more hysterically than I’d meant to sound. I ran to the kitchen.

“Well, that was…that was um…” My mum attempted.

Yes it was, Mum. That happened. And we shall never speak of it again.
…until obviously, they both read this blog post later today. Hi Mum and Dad.  


Back, by popular demand, A Laundry Room Romance

Opening the door of the washing machine,
I was greeted with a heart-wrenching sight.
That elusive red sock had fooled me again,
And my underwear was no longer white.

I stifled a sob of disappointment
as I loaded it into my basket.
My laundry room street cred was now, very much,
Dead and buried in its casket.

Pointing and laughing all around me,
I was mocked lousy by all.
Then in you came with your fairy liquid-tabs
And my life changed once and for all.

Your eyes met mine with a smouldering look,
And then, leaning in ever so slowly,
You whispered to me seductively,
“Do you think this is Dry-Clean only?”

My heart raced at hearing your voice
And I threw my washing to the floor.
The fabric softener exploded at my feet
As you slammed the washing machine door.

Our lips locked in a passionate embrace,
and we made love against the dryer,
The smell of his biological liquid tabs
Sending me even higher.

I shall never forget our whirlpool romance,
my mystery, laundry-room lover.
But it never worked out between the two of us
When I caught you doing washing for another.

All the while, though, I have to think
That could it ever have been,
I highly doubt it would have continued anyway,
For there are stains one simply cannot clean.

Oh, the irony.

My duvet is a sanctuary,
Where I can escape the world,
Where I’ve hidden from every monster
That plagued me as a girl.

But why does it happen now
That it strangles me in sleep,
Smothering me just before
The lake becomes too deep?

Although I long to see the face
Of you who stalks my thoughts,
At least give me this time without
Your nightly, morbid haunts. 

My dreams are being tampered with,
So I must stay awake.
My mind plays tricks on me in slumber
And heavy eyelids will have to wait. 

This is truly a table turner,
.And after a long and wounding fight,
I now choose you, Insomnia,
To bring me comfort from the night.