Me and McSundays

I don't know what it is about Sundays, but we have never got on. As a kid I detested them; they resonated homework, Poldark on TV and mum ironing whilst the rain pelted against the windows. Dad would go to the pub, come home, eat Sunday lunch and then go back to bed; typical 1970s hubby behaviour. There was no football in those days either and of-course all the shops were shut. Whilst Saturday was Swap Shop, Final Score and Jim'll Fix It, Sunday was Thora Hird, Songs of Praise and some dreary play by a Yorkshireman, who was no better than he ought to be (as Gran used to say). It just had no sheen.

But I think my dislike of Sunday has more to it than than childhood memories and the feeling persists to this day.  I wake up and even before I open my eyes, I can sense Sunday out there, waiting for me with its stale, after-Saturday breath. Somehow the children seem more irksome too and it always ends the same. Like the dreary rituals my father used to follow, I always seem to promise them a McDonalds for Sunday tea. I mean is there anything more soul destroying than a retail outlet park on the Sabbath?  I splash my way through the puddles, fight over parking spaces with other grumpy Sunday-haters and buy them some stuff containing the nutritional value of an old leather boot! 

I sometimes wonder if the dislike of Sunday is genetic. My father coped with it using a strict routine of bed, roast beef and beer, I by keeping busy and avoiding situations where I might have to be polite. By the way, I will NOT eat roast dinner on a Sunday - I just cannot face it. Or Thora Hird. But back to genetics, have just asked the kids - Emilie first.

'Hi Em, Daddy wants to ask the question, what do you think of Sunday, sweet one?'

'Daddy too noisy, daddy too noisy,' said Emi, with the sort of stare you could scour an oven with.

Yup - she has the Sunday hating gene. Poor thing. Next I tried Lucie and asked the same question.

'Yes, I like Sunday, dad'

'Great,' I replied, hoping I could learn from her innocent, childlike wisdom.

'Why is that, darling?'

She grinned up at me with those brown eyes and said - 

'Cos I always have McDonalds! Another one again next Sunday!'

Like I say - Sunday knows my weak spot.....................................................

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