Look what happens when you go away!
Before last weekend, this was my beer fridge. See what happens when you go camping! Yes camping Sarnia, people do do it, especially when they go to festivals. Even festivals with training wheels for beginners, like Shalbourne.
Such miraculous goings-on are made possible when you have the kind of friends who think it's a jolly wheeze to pack up their kids in order to pitch five tents and a caravan in a circle, like a wagon train braced for a Comanche attack. Friends such as these are pictured above. So you sling your entire beer collection and a wine box into the boot and off you go with the two younger kids.
Sounds perfect doesn't it? You are with your easily pleased friends (the ones who don't think life without room service isn't worth living, the ones who laugh a lot and actually enjoy getting pissed in a field and barbequeing in the rain...) and your younger children (who are not yet ashamed to be associated with you in public, even if you're pissed), in order to listen to the Wurzels, Doctor and the Medics and the Counterfeit Stones. You get to sample the squalor of the Isle of Wight festival yet on a managable scale.
While your car is blocked into the field making a motorised getaway both alcoholically illegal and phyically impossible, at only 8 miles from home, if the kids really can't hack the toilets, or the Wurzels guzzle all the cider in the beer tent, you could theoretically call a cab and go home!
But the horror of it is that you enjoy yourself for the entire weekend, neglecting your other duties and your courgettes turn into marrows the minute your back is turned! Look at the size of those babies! Just as well I have no beer left eh?