Driving to the beach to spend the day in the Sun is a wonderful idea. Unless you come from the North East of England, where the Sun doesn’t exist and the beach is battered by ice-cold winds from the North Sea*. So there you are, on the way to the beach, contemplating ice cold water and sand being whipped into your eyes. Quite frankly you’re nervous, you might even say apprehensive, one thing is for sure though, you are bored. That is because the 30 adult minutes of travel time roughly translates to 19 hours in child time. No computer games or iPads then, so it a case of looking out the window for certain colours of car, or holding your breath through tunnels.
But oh look, what’s this? here comes your sibling, and what are they doing? Tapping, just tapping for no reason at all. Tapping. Tap, tap, tap. Not to any music or to any beat, just tapping. Tap, tap, tapping. The polite request to stop is as good as a sign that reads ‘OK, OK, you have found my ultimate weakness, and I shall entrust you not to abuse your power over me’. Naturally the parents step in to stop the tapping and order you both to resume looking out the window for cranes.
The noise has stopped, no tapping. But you glance over at your sibling and they’re smiling, they still have the power, and you know its coming. It is time, for the slow tap. It begins with an agonisingly slow drop of a finger – silent to avoid detection by the parents. In slow motion, the finger gently rebounds on the polyurethane seats.
Its official; You’re annoyed.
I don’t have a tapping sibling near me and my Dad isn’t playing the Manic Street Preachers latest song 7 times in a row. I don’t even have to go to the beach and get sand whipped across my face.
I would typically say I have a calm disposition, but today I am irritable. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it could be something to do with an internet connection that would definitely be out of date, even if it were in 1989*. I want to be productive, and there’s so much I need to do, but for once my lack of productivity is out of my hands.
So to remedy this I have decided to hand write every post and mail them to you all in future. Just pop your address in comments* and I’ll be sure to get tomorrows post out to you – second class*. Failing that I will invest in a fleet of pigeons – not to send messages or anything, I just want them to coo gently as I wallow in my self-pity.
*It is exactly this.
*Don’t do this.
*Look after the pennies and the pounds will look after you.
Read more, its good for you.