Christmas Watersports

   I called in to a pub for a very late lunch. It was nearly 4pm and beginning to get dark outside. The pub was festively festooned with xmas paraphenalia: twinkling lights; tinsel; paper decorations; a bushy christmas tree with colourful glass balls. I was served by what appeared to be a nine-year old girl, with braces on her teeth, although I surmised that she was probably in her late teens. I took my pint of pale ale to the back corner and settled in to listen to the various conversations. It being school holidays the room was sprinkled here and there with children, eating lunch with one-or-other of their parents. To my left was a large table of three women and three nine-year-old boys. They were all filled with xmas cheer, and/or alcohol. The women's voices were loud and shrill as they talked about their home-renovations and their child-minders - each trying to outdo the other in terms of the inconveniences visited upon them by their workmen. The boys were much-buoyed by all of the fizzy drinks they had been greedily guzzling down and were excitedly chattering about what they hoped to get for christmas.
   "I think I'm getting a PS4 for christmas, at least I hope so," said the bigger of the boys, glancing pointedly at his mother. 
   "Cool. About time!"
   "You'll need to practise a lot before you are as good as me, though."
   "Yeah, maybe. But I am a quick learner so it won't take me very long." The bigger boy now turned to his mother and said, "Mum, why do you drink alcohol so much?" She ignored him. The boys all laughed. Another of the boys said to no-one in particular, "Drink. Talk. Drink. Talk. Drink again. So boring, actually. Bloody adults. So boring all the time." The boys laughed again in collusion. One of the mothers stood up and made her way to the door in order to smoke on the pavement outside. Another woman said, "Boys, if you need to go to the toilet you should go now before we begin walking home. All that Coke you've been drinking all afternoon."
   "Yeah! Let's go, James!" said the biggest of the boys enthusiastically. He stood, and grabbed the arm of James, hauling him out of his chair. The third boy also stood and they all trooped off to the toilet. The woman came back inside, wreathed in the smell of smoke and humming to herself. Then, both mothers continued squawking about builders and plumbers and electricians.  Five minutes later joyful laughter and shrieks could be heard from the gents' toilet. This continued for some time.
   "What are those boys up to?" asked one of the mothers, rhetorically. Then the toilet door swung open and the laughing boys piled out. As they reached their table one of them said, "Mum! Mum!... MUM!... It was SO funny! Oscar started weeing and then he pointed it at James and nearly wet him!" The boy's mother ignored this, so he went on, "And when James finished his wee he put his dicky back and he dribbled wee inside his pants."
   "I did NOT!" shouted James indignantly. His friends both laughed at this betrayal.
   "Well, that's enough of all that", said one of the mothers, "Let's all finish our pizza nicely and talk about something else now."
   "James is a wee bag!" said his false friend.

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