My lovely Uncle John died on Friday. He will be really sadly missed by all that knew him. Ultimately it was his decision to stop taking his medications and refuse treatment from the hospital. He had not been ill for long so his sudden deterioration is still quite shocking. Anyway i'd rather tell you about the man in life. My favourite story about him was in his younger married days, him and my Aunt went to a christening which ended up as an all day affair with friends and family returning to the proud parents home for more refreshments and nibbles. As the party continued the adoring adults were sat round the living room with the subject of the christening in a wee bouncy seat in the middle of the floor. My Uncle John who enjoyed a beer or two began to feel slightly queasy and unsteadily swayed to his feet, trying to make it to the bathroom. He didn't make it however and pitched forward, vomiting all over the baby! My Aunt, registering the shocked faces all around, stood up and walked out completely mortified!
Another story which brings a fond smile to my lips is one Sunday afternoon, my Aunt cooking in the kitchen whilst my Uncle watched the old firm game. An advid rangers fan, returning from getting a beer out the fridge, Rangers scored causing my uncle to jump up in celebration. Unfortunately he was midway through the connecting arch between the livingroom and dining room and smashed his head against the top of the archway. My aunt ran out of the kitchen rolling-pin in hand shouting 'you stupid bastard!' as my cousin ran down the stairs to see my uncle blood puring down his face and my aunt shouting and waving a rolling-pin about. My cousin thought my aunt had finally had enough and whacked my uncle about the head.
Goodbye Uncle John, slanithe!
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