A carvery with the Hancocks

OK, little 'Author's Note' here, I do love my family and to be fair I was looking forward to going out for a carvery with them this afternoon (mostly for the food) and I did enjoy it but I had honestly forgotten the scale of the kerfuffle that comes with it. It's pretty much all kinda "head-in-hands-in-despair" moments that only family can provide. Let's count how many of these moments there are ...

We'd booked the pub table for half 12. The pub is literally 2minutes down the road ... so naturally at 12:15 my Grandad was panicking we'd lost our spot first *hangs head in despair* and we haven't got out the front door yet. When we arrived at the pub, we went in and sat down before Dad, Grandad and myself went to get drinks. Dad asked me to go check what my Mum wanted even though she'd already asked him for a Diet Coke but being a man he hadn't listened so I ran back to the table like a good child, asked her and returned just in time to see him buy her a J2O. Upon my telling him he'd got it wrong he goes, "Oh trust her to change her mind, she always has a J2O" ... well clearly not and I love how it's my Mum's fault he got her drink wrong *hangs head in despair*

So back to the table, and despite having been to this pub several times and that there were waiters tootling around, the father comes to the decision that we order from the bar, so off him and Grandad go. Seconds later the waiter asks what we want to eat and we have to turn him away looking right fools. A few minutes later Dad comes back to look at the table number ... how many times do people have to do that before they remember to look before they go?! *hangs head in despair*

Another five minutes pass and the two of them return with my Grandad complaining about his pin number because after two tries he still couldn't remember it and he'd had to pay by cash ... his excuse was that he'd picked up his Co-op card by mistake instead of his Goldfish. Apparently he'd used his Co-op card earlier that day to get money out but it hadn't occurred to him that his pin number at a cashpoint is the same one on a chip'n'pin machine *hangs head in despair*

Finally, up we go to get our carvery. I was told by Mr Chefman to use the serviette to hold the plate because it was hot. My brother was behind me and picked up the plate with his hand *hangs head in despair* How he didn't burn his hand I don't know and he doesn't have an ounce of common sense so I gave him a serviette to use. For some reason then he only held the plate with the tips of his fingers ... I didn't even bother asking why. He is 18 but has literally NO strength in any part of his body and I could see the physical strain of holding just the plate in his hand even before he'd put food on it *hangs head in despair* My Dad ended up having to take his own plate to the table and coming back to put food on my brothers plate while he held it with both hands. *hangs head in despair*

Once everyone was seated comfortably Simon told Dad off for the fact that the gravy on his plate had burnt his thumb ... well maybe if you were capable of holding a plate AND serving yourself food that wouldn't have been an issue *hangs head in despair*

Oh, and literally as I type my Mum has been complaining about things and apparently whilst queuing for the carvery my Grandad was complaining: "God, it's like being in a cattle market, queuing for food, takes me back to my army days." IT'S A CARVERY! and the queue consists of your daughter-in-law and your grandson *hangs head in despair*

Now this is probably just me but when I get food I sit down shut up and eat it and I really enjoy it, anyone who knows me knows I love my food. Everyone else chats and makes constant comments about everything, which are then echoed twice as loud by my brother. Example: Mum - "They could've made the yorkshire puddings a bit smaller, I don't think I'd have been able to manage one". Simon - "This yorkshire pudding is HUGE! Isn't it, Grandma? It's HUGE!" *hangs head in despair*

Finally, my brother has this ridiculous paranoia that if he eats too much he'll be sick and so when he did a few tiny burps this paranoia struck and he stopped eating and sorta half whispered-half shouted Mum that, "I keep doing tiny burps!" *hangs head in despair* What's more he also has this very confused thing about burps. My Aunt and Uncle find burping hilarious and encourage him to do it - in all seriousness they actually visited the other day and told him all about an especially loud burp that Uncle John had done that morning during breakfast. I know. But my parents are trying to discourage it and tell him to excuse himself if he does. So the compromise is that he burps quietly and excuses himself VERY loudly: "OH 'SCUSE ME! MUM I BURPED" ... "Yes, ok Simon" ... "BUT I SAID EXCUSE ME!" ... *hangs head in despair*


So after over 10 "hangs head in despair"'s I think that's going to have to do, else I'm going to explode .. or "splode" as my brother says it. Oh how I love my family.

Cock
xxx


ps. my Mum has just made my day by asking about one of my friends (I shan't mention names, she knows who she is): "So has *insert friends name* got a boyfriend or is she still slee ... er ... playing the field?"


pps. oh I forgot ... my Dad watches Twilight and is Team Jacob *hangs head in despair*