The f**king uncomfortable things you're sleeping on at your parents' place

YOUR parents’ house cannot accommodate you, your sister, your brother, his wife and their kids, so you’re sleeping on one of these: 

Sofa bed

Not the fold-out bed part because the hinges are long since knackered. Instead you’re kipping on a sofa people have spent all day farting into. And it’s in the living room so you won’t get any privacy. Hope you don’t mind your dad waking you up at 7am putting on Good Morning Britain to ogle Susanna Reid.

Air mattress

A big mattress bloated with air sounds reasonably comfortable. But don’t forget you have to inflate the sodding thing first. You’ll tire yourself out blowing it up, then as you slump onto it you’ll realise it’s nowhere near as comfy as springs, then every night it goes down and you wind up on the floor surrounded by air mattress. An uncomfortable irony.

The floor

All carpeted areas are occupied with slumbering in-laws on air mattresses, so you’re relegated to the granite-tiled flooring of mum’s bespoke kitchen. The cold, hard flagstones could be refreshing in the summer, but on a December night you’re like chilled meat. At least you have good fridge access.

The bath

Pros: it’s long enough to lie down in. Cons: it’s made of porcelain-enameled cast iron so the stairs would be more forgiving to your spine. And it’s right next to the loo, and Dad goes for three pisses per night, and they take so long you now need to have a difficult conversation about his prostate.

Your childhood bed

Yes it’s an actual bed, but you’re two feet too big for it now. Plus you try to drift off in the throes of existential crisis. How have you ended up back here? Let’s just say your younger self would be depressed if they knew.

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Couple spending first Christmas together realise they each do Christmas wrong

A COUPLE spending their first Christmas together were shocked to realise that they each have entirely incorrect Christmas traditions. 

Jack Browne and Eleanor Shaw could not be together last year and have planned their Christmas for months, only to discover that they are trapped in a seasonal hell of not doing it right at all.

Browne said: “It began first thing Christmas morning. Eleanor wanted us to open our presents in turn, while the right way to do it is to descend on whatever’s under the tree like a swarm of locusts.

“Next she wanted a morning walk exactly when you should be making the jump from champagne to a mid-morning whiskey. Christmas is about wild consumption and setting a record low step-count on my FitBit, not shows of gratitude and going outdoors.

Shaw said: “He expected lunch at 1pm, not 5pm, and then had no interest in our afternoon game of Scrabble with double scores for festive words.

“When I put Elf on he ranted about how he always watches Gladiator. What connection there is between Christmas and Russell Crowe dressed as a sort of ancient gimp I can’t fathom, but apparently he sees one.

“What did we agree on? Well I think we’re both reconsidering having kids.”