Frustration, frustration...

Oy. I love going places, travelling (my dad tried to play the devil's advocate and said that I didn't, but he was obviously just kidding!), but I hate stress. Some might argue that stress is part of it, but I think it largely depends on how stressed you let yourself be. All of us (except maybe for Becky) let ourselves get stressed. I show it by sobbing when things aren't going exactly right; Mum shows it by getting irritable, and Daddy shows it by getting out-of-this world crabby.

So that's why I like to hang around somewhere else or do something so engaging it makes them forget about stress. Of course, that doesn't always work. I don't know. Anyhow, it gives me a headache.

Anyhow, a good way to tell if the family's stressed is if I'm lagging behind and not chattering; if Mum is one minute seemingly (and perhaps actually) having a good time and the next snapping; and if Daddy is dour (except he seems to be like that more and more these days :(...); all three of those, well...you've got it.

Thankfully for most of you...we don't tend to do it around folks we sort of know.