War games

Having the family read through the second draft of Martini Bond was always going to be a drama. I just hadn’t realised how much of a warm-up we’d have before the reading. Mum and Dad had been left in charge of their nine-year-old grandson (my nephew) in the swimming pool. Mum and I had found him playing under the water in a jacuzzi. Of course, the fear of god was put into him with the tale of a girl who got her hair trapped in a grille and almost drowned.

She was saved. Not sure if this is an urban myth but Mum swore it was true.

A couple of hours later, I found Mum in a wild panic. She had been looking for said grandson for about an hour. All the other families were leaving and he was nowhere to be seen. Mum thought he was dead. Drowned. His hair caught in a grille. Dad thought he’d been kidnapped (who by? A Bond villain?).

But grandson had them in his sights the whole time, playing some kind of war game. Of course he was a sniper who should not be seen (perhaps he was seeing himself as James Bond?). Fortunately, a life guard outfoxed him and told him his Nan was looking for him.

So everyone was rather stressed out when it came to reading the play. My husband cracked a joke at the first paragraph. Dad didn’t find that funny and refused to play any further part. Then it transpired my husband had sabotaged the order of the pages. So he was duly banned from any further involvement. The play is also only suitable for over-16s but luckily my niece and nephew had long left the dinner table.

So that left my brother-in-law, sister and Mum. As it turned out, I thought they were auditioning for parts. Scottish, American and eastern European accents were suddenly whizzing around the table. Improved names for characters suggested. Jokes dissected. I should have been making notes but by this time was too drunk to care. After all, family war games take it out of you.

April 13, 2012. Tags: , , , , , , , , . Comedy, Comedy writing, Humour, Publishing.

One Comment

  1. norfolknovelist replied:

    Families, eh? I admire your bravery. Thanks for the follow. 🙂

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