Back in Blighty

After seven days away, am back in England. The last day was probably one of the best days away, sadly…

Had a lovely breakfast at the airport, sailed through checks and security. I didn’t encounter any twats and read quite a bit on the plane which was half empty. Had loads of legroom and a pre ordered meal, which was my favourite comfort food: Thai Massamum Curry. Granted there was just about enough to feed a small bird or gerbil but they had chocolate pudding. Mmmm…chocolate.

I landed at Manchester in the same grey, grimness of weather that I left in. However, this time it was not stupid early and I knew someone would be there to pick me up! Well…

I got out at departures, as my dad asked me to, where I found him wondering around in the freezing cold without a jacket, looking a bit lost… I shouted over and we met.

“Hey, where’s mum?”

“Hey, I don’t…know. I thought she was here…”

Not really what I expected.

Turns out a very zealous parking Nazi had been despatched on seeing my folks’ car in the departures bit for 10 minutes and 30 seconds. Mum had been told to move the car whilst my dad went to quickly check the arrivals board.

My dad has a very dad  – like approach to timekeeping which has become more esoteric with age.

Anyways, we thought we’d work it out…
Ahem..well, my dad had left his phone in the car. No one was answering mum’s phone…

I don’t really know how but we ended up on top of a 12 storey car park at Manchester Airport.

By some miracle my dad spotted his wife from 12 floors up whilst she was wandering around in the ground floor arrivals car park, bizarre, she’s not even five foot tall and my dad has trouble finding his gloves in the car

Walked to the lift with my dad to be greeted by three “youths” for some reason hanging out in the lift area of a 12 storey car park…”fuck you, shithead, cockwank”

Erm…

It took a second…I made eye contact “Excuse me?” My dad was a bit perturbed.

“Tourette’s” was the chorus.

Hmm…really?

I kept a good stare on the non Tourette’s young ‘uns as we departed to the depths of Manchester Airport but I didn’t hear any more expletives!

Apart from the fact the car sounded like it was dying on the way home, we got home.

I’ll tell you something though, when I got back to my flat later that night, I had the best bath I’ve had in years. 7 days of living in what was essentially a campsite with someone who had toilet rules, water rules and heating/ gas rules.

I enjoyed that bath.

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