This weekend my father, two sisters and I have returned to my home town in South Wales. We are staying at my grandparents small bungalow that just about manages to fit us all in. My Dad has managed to go out for the night with his friends, nothing fancy just 'a ruby with the lads', while we mere children suffer 'X-Factor', 'I'm a Celebrity' and 'Strictly Come Dancing' with the grandparents. People say to embrace and enjoy your teenage years, I think I am doing just that.
I can't complain, I'm being spoilt with sweets and treats my mother would only ever let us have every now and again. I don't want to become one of those teenagers that would rather go out wearing clothes that leave little to the imagination and get what some may call 'trollied' than see their family. Spending my weekends listening to stories from 'the good ol' days' is what keeps me far from those wild beings.
Anyway, it's hard to hate old people; they are the last surviving beings from a lost age, the remains of a time been and gone. And let's face it, they come out with some of the funniest stuff sometimes.