Sun, sea and... screaming – it's family holiday time
Holidays. Remember them? The ones where you threw a bikini, a sarong and a few good books into a suitcase and headed off on a 24-hour flight to the other side of the world? The beach hut, the cocktails, the sunsets, the romance . . .
Holidays as a single person or a young married couple are blissful. Holidays with small children are less so. My brother warned me when I had children not to bother leaving Ireland until they were at least eight years old. I laughed. There was no way I was spending eight years in the lashing rain waiting for my kids to grow up. Come on, how hard could it be? You pack a suitcase and off you go . . .
To date, I have been peed on, puked on and even pooed on. I have felt the wrath of a plane full of retired golfers as they sat through two hours of my three-year-old screaming with ear ache.