Its beginning to look a lot like a family reunion...

Inspired by a family I witnessed while on holiday...

The family chat group that Kevin begrudgingly belonges to exploded sometime in February when one of his in-laws suggested that they all celebrate the coming Christmas together at a hotel. It would coincide perfectly with his mother in law's 70th birthday. Everyone on the chat group, apart from Kevin, agreed that they could think of no better way to get into the Christmas spirit than to spend seven solid days in each other's company, including nine children all under the age of 10. Since then the chat group has been riddled with extreme holiday expectations and awkward reminders to pay for accommodation.

Kevin spent the next 9 and a half months in mild therapy with his padel partner, Brian. Their final post game beer, sometime at the beginning of December, ended in a bracing hug with Brian reminding Kevin that he is only a phone call away if things get too much. 

It is now two days into the seven day Christmas extravaganza and Kevin is fighting for his life at the bottom of a tepid heated pool while his hefty eight year old neice has her legs wrapped firmly around his neck in an attempt to make him carry her on his shoulders. From under the water he can see his half pissed brother-in-law make very vague requests to his daughter to leave Uncle Kevin alone. So far this particular brother-in-law has managed to maintain a gentle alcoholic buzz since they arrived. 

Kevin has spent the last two hours looking after almost all of the children at the pool area and has had to navigate puddle jumpers, sunblock and near head on collisions on the slippery slide with several children who he sees twice a year. He regrets deeply the 'fun uncle' tone he set on day one by letting all the kids use his shoulders as a diving board because a precedent has been set and now he's starring down the barrel of five more days of unadulterated physical torture from a group of children who aren't even his blood relatives. 

He checks his watch for a seventh time and wonders how long a spa treatment can possibly take? His wife, his mother-in-law and all the other sisters-in-law have booked themselves into the spa for what feels like an eternity. Before she left for her 'me time' extravaganza Kevin discreetly reminded his wife that rugby starts at 17.00. She then looked at him like he was a syphilis rash and told him that he was under no circumstances allowed to ruin her mother's birthday. 

Kevin thinks ahead to the meal tonight. It's only day two and he's already put on at least 3kgs feeding from the breakfast and dinner buffet trough. The thought of coaxing his kids into eating something other than plain noodles and fried calamari is exhausting. And the thought of watching his one year old nephew regurgitate butternut onto his feeding chair makes him want to call in sick. 

Perhaps the most trying part of all is watching his wife regress back to being 16 again. His highly competent, mature soul mate becomes an instantly moody and needy adolescent the moment she is back with her siblings. The intensity of having to keep up with the plot twists and alliances between siblings is too much, and with four decades of arsenal and repressed childhood memories, any relatively tame comment can potentially lead to snot and trane in a hotel toilet for two hours.  

 Kevin's father-in-law materialises from between two bushes. He has the vague expression of someone who is calling on his experiences of the army to help him through the next few days. If he could survive that, he can survive this. He calls out to one of his grandchildren, who is about to throw themselves from a rock feature into the swimming pool, he goes through at least four grandchild names before he gets the right one but it is too late and the kid has already jumped off the ledge and almost decapitated an old woman swimming lengths. He sighs and disappears back into the bushes. He's too old for this crap.

Kevin's kid says he needs a poo and refuses to use the pool's toilets because he cant poo on other people's wee. Kevin makes a sarcastic comment about the irony of his kid not wanting to drop the kids off at the pool at the pool but his four year old just stares blankly up at him.  Kevin hands over kid pool watch to his pissed brother-in-law, who is now half passed out on a sun lounger. He gives a feeble thumbs up from his lounger, takes a swig of his brandy and coke and slips his hat over his face as Kevin and his kid start the 10 mile trek back to their hotel room, which, as the crow flies, is the room furthest away from the swimming pool.

As his kid unleashes the furry into the toilet Kevin checks his phone. His passive aggressive sister-in-law, who had a major barney last night at the bar with her youngest sibling, has posted several selfies from the spa revealing middle aged woman in various states of unattractive post facial puffiness. Tags like #blessed #family4eva #siblings4life #glendas70th adorn her post and Kevin wonders if he should edit the bad spelling. 

As he's wiping his kid's nether regions a frantic whatsapp on the family group announces that the woman returned blissfully from their once a year spa session treat to discover the children running amock at the pool with no adult supervision in sight. What follows are hysterical voice notes from various mother's shaming the whole selfish male population. Phrases like 'Christmas ruined' and 'mom only turns 70 once and now you've destroyed it' are thrown out. Kevin's father-in-law accidentally throws in an emoji of a tractor. Kevin thinks to himself that Christmas was ruined sometime in February. And then phones Brian.