The other night Ashley came home late from University, she was roaring drunk.
She had been out with some guys from class and drank Tequila.
I was sitting happily watching TV and the giant stumbling daughter from hell arrived. She banged every door in the house and started speaking very posh, which is a sure sign of being drunk “Mama, I am in the hall and I am absolutely tip top” she shouted in some mock middle class accent.
Not only was she drunk but she was speaking like Hugh Grant.
“Great” I said sarcastically to husband who smiled and gestured his acceptance of the situation by spreading open his arms and saying “Well she is 21 years old”.
Ashley threw herself onto the sofa, reeking of smelly alcohol and proceeded to eat the baked potato leftovers that were lying on my plate. She dropped potato all down her legs and I demanded she get to bed.
She laughed like a manic and headed off to her room, making enough noise to wake up the entire block of flats. She knocked over the drying frame which was full of wet washing, so my damp jumper landed in the recycling box amongst the sticky plastic pop bottles.
She fell asleep. I kept her door open so I could check she wasn’t going to choke on her vomit, as this haunts me, I knew a few people who died of this when I was young.
Next morning I was awoken by the sound of her retching into a plastic bucket I had placed beside her bed.
“Mum!” she cried through the vomiting noises. I went into her room and she was laying half out the bed, damp with sweat and trying to tie up her masses of dark hair that were threatening to land amongst the yellow bile in the bucket.
I did the good mummy thing and held up her hair and sponged her back with a cold cloth and she retched up more yellow stuff.
“I am sorry mum” she mumbled as her body heaved over and over to get a teaspoonful of yellow bile out of her alcohol poisoned stomach.
I spent most of the day checking her, sponging her, washing out a vomitty bucket and encouraging her to sip some water that bounced straight back up out of her trampoline like dodgy tummy.
By teatime she was starting to come round, her body had sweated and vomited out most of the Tequila and she managed to keep down a glass of water.
“I am never getting drunk again” she declared, her white face and huge hollow eyes looked like she meant it. Probably she will, but I hope she never gets that sick again._