The Silver Surfer's back... and so am I!

So, it's been a while... How the devil are you?

The geriatrics arrived in a blaze of glory. The journey back from the airport was an ear-splitting mish mash of how they almost missed the plane, the ‘amazing’ food served and how they had so much legroom they thought they were on a royal flight. Granny told the same story about the “awfa nice lassie fe Castle Douglas” at least six times during the twenty minute journey, her brother used the same twenty minute talk time to describe the roast beef on the flight that was “so tender it melted in ma mooth”. The only time the two of them spoke at the same time, on the same subject was when Granny interjected that the food had been good on British Airways because, unlike KLM they serve British food - not foreign muck like pasta!

Every story is recounted by both of them but Granny’s brother tends to start his version two minutes after her because he’s as deaf as a post and doesn’t know that she has already started the story. She can hear him, but is so stubborn that she won’t stop. A conversation with the two of them is a bit like a song that’s sung at nursery school, everyone jumps in a verse later.

By day two and after lots of testing of ‘comfy seats’ they have assumed their roles as couch potatoes. A sofa each with book in hand (or on face whilst they take forty winks), Granny with her bottle of water trying to keep hydrated and her brother with his bottle of beer, not giving a shit about hydration, “well beer’s wet so it must do the same thing”. The Silver Surfer argued that he must drink to rehydrate himself, she finished her conversation by saying, "well, I'm not taking you to the hospital so soon you’ll be dead”.

Happy times.

On day one Granny and I had a serious towel conversation. Apparently she was very upset that she didn’t have a proper hand towel in her bathroom. I told her that there was one but she was absolutely adamant that a ‘tea-towel’ was not good enough to use as a hand towel. I went upstairs to find the offending item, a Ralph Lauren hand towel. She was only quiet when this was replaced with a ten-year-old ‘proper hand towel’ from Asda!

DVD choosing in the house is probably one of the most difficult daily tasks. Every movie mentioned is followed by a chorus of, “aye hen, that’s fine” or, “aye hen, I’m nae bothered what we watch”. Inevitably 20 minutes into the film they are grumbling that it’s, “nae good”. Granny uses it as an excuse to go to sleep as the movie’s “no her thing”. I suppose you can’t please all the people all the time!

Granny is a back seat driver in every sense of the word. I have to admit to getting a little lost one evening and made the mistake of telling her that we needed to look out for the Turkish mosque (bear in mind I live in a country where every fifth building is a mosque), the remaining journey was filled with shouts from the back:

Granny: Is that the mosque?

Me: No, we are looking for the Turkish one

Granny: Is that the mosque?

Me: No, the one we are looking for is huge and blue

Granny: Is that the mosque?

Me: No, that’s white

Silence

Granny: Well, you’d think by now you’d kenn where you’re going!

The most exciting part of their visit to the Middle East was not to take in the stunning scenery, meet the locals or see the dolphins; it was to find a pub that would show the Glasgow Rangers Vs Celtic football match. The day of the big match I had to work so arranged for them to be taken to the local pub, the bar manager promised to look after them for me. I arrived at the pub at 4.30pm and bumped into the manager who said “I’ve just come back from taking your Gran and Uncle to a pub at the other end of town”. I had visions of them being chucked out for causing a disturbance, surely they couldn’t have found a Celtic fan to abuse already? Apparently there were problems with the satellite so the manager took them in his car and drove them all the way over to another pub! I reckon he was just trying to stop them moaning.

As I parked at the pub I saw an ambulance. I crossed every bone in my body that the excitement had not got the better of the pair of them and they had knocked out a Celtic supporter. I went in and found them sitting happily in the corner with a couple I had never seen before. It turns out that these two were on holiday from Scotland and were Rangers supporters so Gran and George had taken them under their wing!

It wasn’t until I walked to the car that I remembered I had a two-seater convertible. Granny who is five foot nothing got in the front and her brother who is well over six foot squeezed in the back. By this time he was more than a few sheets to the wind and spent the entire journey screaming from the back seat, “The wind’s blowing ma f**kin’ hair off”.

He is bald. I still have three weeks to go.