When I was twelve years of age I lived in a two bedroom
with my mother
. My mum and sis shared a large bedroom, so when my sister's boyfriend came to stay, my mum would stay in the spare bed in my room (I have a very liberal
Unfortunately on this particular night my poor old mother felt a little ill, connected in some way to her vodka consumption on this particular evening. Even more unfortunately for me she couldn't make it out of the room before she hurled. Even more unfortunately for me she managed to make it as far as my bed. EVEN MORE unfortunately for me it was the middle of summer and I had no cover on and only a pair of pyjama bottoms on.
I got covered from head to toe in my mothers vomit.
Not a pleasant story, no moral to it but it will embarrass the hell out of her when I tell her that this admission is available for you all to read - and that is the least she deserves for showering me in sick.