Holidays are just nightmares you’re awake for

The only thing worse than not being on holiday? Being on holiday with your parents. Welcome to the Costa del Cringe.

Getting hawkward

There comes a point where going anywhere beyond, say, the shops with your parents becomes awkward.

Hawkward

Holidays are the classic example. Going away with them tests physical and mental endurance to the limits; similar to the pressures exerted on astronauts or fighter pilots.

“Maybe you can escape the parental death grip? You know, make some new friends? Maybe you fall head over heels with a freakishly dull but equally beautiful Scandinavian?”

Hopping on a jet plane? Godspeed.

You’re exhausted before you leave passport control, thanks to the neurotic tour de force that is airport Mum.

Hit the high seas?

So let’s say you do something a little different: take complete leave of your senses and go on a cruise? Only you’d better be ready to collect your Dad, because he’s doing this again.

Ok, but when we get somewhere we can have a nice evening out to sample the local cuisine and culture? Well, no. Not quite. Because your Old Man can ruin that too. There’s no hiding place.

@driesroelvinkofficial #Le Quai#Saint ♬ Me Olvide De Vivir – Julio Iglesias

“Surely any holiday beats sitting staring at an inbox or falling asleep operating potentially lethal machinery because you are dreaming of being somewhere else?”

Make some new friends

Maybe you can escape the parental death grip? You know, make some new friends?

Nope, no dice. On holiday, all of a sudden, your parents try to sell you off. Anyone, anywhere will do. Their solution is always to shove you in the direction of “this nice boy who wants to hang out.” And then it’s this kid.

 

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A post shared by Asher Lieberman (@stinkyasher)

Rapidly followed by this one.

Maybe some romance?

Ok so friends are hard to find, how about a whirlwind holiday romance? Maybe you fall head over heels with a freakishly dull but equally beautiful Scandinavian?

Or pine after just a few mumbled words from a reclusive sun-hating goth on a campsite that resembles the inside of one of the reactors at Chernobyl? But it never works out. Because why would it?

Look: surely any holiday beats sitting staring at an inbox or falling asleep operating potentially lethal machinery because you are dreaming of being somewhere else?

So maybe ignore what we said, sit back, relax, and…don’t forget the ‘gram.

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