When Dads try the Scrumpy

Everyone can remember the first time they saw their Dad drunk. At least you can remember the first time you realised that your Dad was drunk.

I know that for some people this can be all too regular and horrible an experience and I do not wish to cause any offence. I’m blessed that I have no experience of alcohol related problems at home either from my youth or currently. I’m lucky.

For most people then the first time your Dad gets drunk is a bewildering bizarre moment in your life. This man is unrecognisable and fun, this is the Dad that you want – briefly.

We were on holiday in Burnham-on-Sea at the Holimarine caravan park. I think this might be a Haven park nowadays. I’m sure there had been occasions before this when my Dad had had a couple of scoops but this was the big one.

Dad had discovered the local Scrumpy. They served it in the club on site and he had picked up quite a taste for it. I don’t think he had realised how strong it was. The next thing we knew we were en-route back to the caravan with a man that I did not recognise.

Dad was whooping and cheering and laughing. I think my older brother must have been in the Sea Cadets by then or something because Dad got quite excited about marching. Out went his arms, swinging them straight back and forth like some deranged Russian soldier. “LEFT RIGHT LEFT” he chanted “LOOK AT ME IM A SAILOR” his voice echoed round the camp. My Brother was in hysterics; my Sister was mortified and had run off ahead in shame. My Mother who had clearly picked up a couple of glasses of Blue Nun herself was giggling too.

From my Mum and Brother’s clues I decided that all was OK. My initial concern and fear turning into delight as I joined in on the joke. By this point my Dad was singing quite loudly about being a Cider drinker. We got to the Caravan and bundled him inside where I think he went to sleep immediately on the settee or in his room.

The fun moment and noise were done and I was sorted out and in bed, heading off to sleep with fun images of my father marching and singing spinning in my head.

Suddenly the whole camp was awoken. It was maybe an hour later. The whole camp was to be treated to the sounds of Scrumpy coming back out again in a hurry. I was scared again, this was not good – why was Dad so ill? Again the look of sheer indifference on my Mum’s face helped ease my concern. The only thing she cared about was the noise rather than the illness, my Brother laughed – so I did.

The next day, both of my parents seemed to have picked up bad cases of ‘Wine Flu’ as I know it to be called now. Again I had to learn something new about how the fun activities of the night before had lead to some sore heads the next day.

I’ll never forget that experience; it’s a classic family moment.