so sure I’m going to survive this relaxing family holiday

it’s because I’m extremely sensitive. Extremely, extremely sensitive. I know that I’m sensitive because my mother, my sister or father will not hesitate to inform me so every half an hour or on hour if I have forgotten for even a moment. I admit it, I am overly sensitive. I’m sensitive when my my sister turns off the light in the room while staring right at me, I’m sensitive while my mother yells at me to CALM DOWN or my father and I battle over bathroom towels. I’m so sensitive that I might just take a massive butcher knife before this holiday is over and show them what real sensitivity looks like.

pretty, so pretty and so red.

And it’s not just me, the weather is also sensitive.

(Don’t tell her I told you but actually the weather is being a number one (#1)bi-polar hobag)

It’s raining so we decide not to go to the beach and lurk at home, then it stops raining so fling on our swim suits, get creamed up (shut up not like that) leap into the car and then drive to the beach where it immediately begins to rain again then we drive home and my head begins to ache and my stomach hurts because I know what lies ahead.

Trapped by the rain and wild for something to do, my family makes me undergo the ultimate cruelty and unmitigated agony.

I scream that I’ll talk, tell them everything they need to know but it’s no use. I can hear the mesmerizing goose flesh crawling chinkety chink chink chink  noises coming closer as the foul little green bag is brought out , the thick dull pound of the board as it hits the table, the agonized squeak as plastic counters are forced whiningly across wood and suddenly  I am pushed into a chair the world begins to spin

‘No!’ I call out hoarsely ‘I beg you I’ll tell you anything!’ ‘NO FOR GOD’S SAKE HAVE MERCY, HAVE PITY ON MY SOUL PLEASE PLEASE I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU SAY!’

but it’s too late

Scrabble

Or as Mahatmah Gandhi liked to say ‘the shittiest game on the face of the planet’

I truly and utterly (ten points)deteste (eight points) scrabble (fourteen points) with every fibre (nine points) of my qi (nine hundred and thirty two points when placed on a triple word)

Although my scrabble playing sentiment would be best summed up by the following seven letters

so no lik

I try to put words down ‘screw’ and ‘evil’ and ‘frog’

I was told to save my ‘s’s-actually I’m told to save that quite often through life.

The saddest part is the the  glowing and supportive praise I receive from my otherwise nonsensitive critical family which makes me realize how truly challenged I am by this game.

Oh look Sophie put down ‘frog’

‘Well done Sophie!’ beams my mother  a player  of ‘exile’ ‘luxury’ and ‘azure’

‘Frog is a good word!’

‘You play great!’  Says my sister inflictor of ‘genuflect’ ‘longue’ and ‘xenophobia’

Frog! Well done!’ adds my father who’s gentle use of obituary, arbitrary and zeal (on the triple word) can kick our s’s any day of the week.

Family at their finest.

Added to this I still basically have tuberculosis (self diagnosed and me with only a MFA) which is a blast to bring to a summer holiday at the the beach. Let me tell you nothing like a hot tan, sexy bikini and a wracking and endless cough for a light hearted and fun filled conversational starter. For best results cough heavily into the inquirer’s face. They’ll just eat that up.

But as Nietchze that famous party animal once said

‘Life’s a beach and then you DIE hahahahahaha!’

The point is for you to stop looking at me like that you judgemental jerk, or the next person I visit with the butcher knife is you, unfeeling schmuck.

After all, I’m sensitive.