A Pig
Until I was about 30 I thought my Mum's dad (my Grandad) was dead.

Then I found out the truth.

Apparently he had kept pigs (I did have vague recollections of being very small and at someone's house where there was a pig sty, but I didn't know it was my Grandad's house) and when his favourite pig died he wanted to bury it - I can understand why he might not want to eat it I suppose.

Now he only had a small garden, but my parents had a massive garden, so a solution to his problem was at hand.

However, my Mum had other ideas. Me and my brothers were all under 5 years old so, on the basis that a fucking enormous great dead pig might just present a health hazard to 3 small boys in the height of summer, she said no.

He got the hump and they didn't speak for 25 years.

There was a deathbed reconciliation I believe but I don't know the details as I wasn't speaking to my parents at the time - I'd had to throw them out of my son's christening for getting drunk and being rude to all my friends - but that's another story.
( Blackdogmanguitar is out with Fat Larry's Jazz Band on, Thu 12 Nov 2009, 13:11, 2 replies)

Now that's what I call
Being pig-headed!






(Did you see what I did there?)
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 12 Nov 2009, 14:20, closed)

yes
(TheSpode has little toe-hats., Thu 12 Nov 2009, 21:11, closed)