If it's not one thing....

It's your mother!
Mothers are great. You love them, they love you. You annoy them, they tell you off. They can be the most terrifying creatures on the planet. They can also be the most irritating.

I don't know why, but when they get to a certain age, they go daft. They become completely unreasonable. They don't listen. They never shut up.

Some of my mum's favourite ways to irritate me are: saying "I imagine" and"It's ready when it's ready"; and by moving bits of cutlery, salt and pepper pots and anything within her reach around the table while we're sat round after a meal.

You can be sat reading, quietly enjoying the celeb mags that come with the Sunday papers; Mother will be in the room, reading one of the papers and you'll get "Tut, tut, tut, it's always the same..." Knowing that responding will get you embroiled in an argument with your mum's logic, you keep still and pretend not to have heard. A few minutes later, "Did you read this about the [whatever]?" Even if you say you have, she'll go on to recount the entire newspaper report and add her own editorial.

There's no possibility of watching anything on the telly in her company for the constant running commentary. She even repeats what's just been said in the news, despite the fact that you're sat next to her and watching the same broadcast.

A few months ago, she thought she'd been caught speeding by a speed camera: "When will I hear anything?" I told her it usually takes about a month.

"How much is the fine?", she went on.

"About £60 and 3 points on your licence."

"Sixty pounds? And it takes about a month?"

"Yeah, you'll know in a month. And there's a 3 point endorsement too."

"Sixty pounds, that's terrible. As least I won't have any points on my licence, it was only about 35mph in a 30 zone."

"For the THIRD TIME, THERE WILL BE THREE POINTS ON YOUR LICENCE TOO!!"

"Oh, so you only get points if it's your third speeding offence?"

Fuck me!


Slo-mo Dad
My dad is the slowest man alive. Everything he does is in slow-motion. Watching him eat is painful (in fact, listening to him eat is pretty bad too): he'll pile as much food onto his fork as possible, then lift the fork very slowly while lowering his head and opening his mouth very wide. The fork goes into the mouth extremely slowly, but he still manages to drop half the stuff off it (this is particularly bad with spaghetti), and then he chews, and chews, and chews. Needless to say I leave the table as soon as I've finished.


I've finally had enough and done away with them. It wasn't difficult, I just turned the fire's gas supply on while they were dozing. Shame about Otto.

"It was for my own sanity, your honour! I couldn't take any more"

That was a JOKE of course. I love em to bits and I'd much rather they were around to irritate me than not at all.