All they had to do was ask me about this. I became aware of this years ago when I went to Brighton for the first time, and met the ‘accent prejudice’ for the first time.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7329768.stm

But why stop at just those three accents? For example, we all know that Brummies are thick, and Yorkshire people are ‘careful’ with their money. Why not go further? I mean, Geordies are scroungers, Liverpudlians are scroungers, Welsh are insular and Scottish are tight. People from Essex are chavs, people from the West Country are all farmers, while people from the South East are all Cockney Wankers.

Of course, people could always learn to think for themselves and not believe the stereotypes portayed on the telly, and realise that people are the same where ever you go. But maybe that would be too difficult?

It is my nephew’s 21st birthday next week. My family have already got my back up by making such a song and dance about how awful it is for him, poor lad, that he can’t come home for his birthday because the university are making him do some work. The poor lad is a victim because the whole family treat him as such. They just haven’t made the connection that I only managed to go home for my 21st birthday because I did a sandwich year, and if I hadn’t my birthday would have been slap bang in the middle of the exams and I wouldn’t have even been able to come home at the weekend either.

Aside from that, when I last spoke to them on Sunday, they were not entirely sure when he would be home, as he has a part time job in a supermarket, and they weren’t sure of his shifts. I said I’d be home that weekend.

Now, when I go home at the weekend, I usually go mid-morning on the Saturday.

My mom phoned tonight, and mentioned, “Oh yes, and you’re coming up Friday night.”

“No I’m not, I’m coming up Saturday.”

“Well you can’t, because the table is booked for 12,” she said extremely indignantly.

“What table. I don’t know anything about this. How was I supposed to know what was going on?”

“We are going out for lunch at 12, and then we are going back for an ‘open house’ so all his friends can come round,” she is now extremely annoyed with me for not knowing this.

Damn, I need to get my mind-reading practice in, I seem to be losing my touch.

“Well, I will just have to come up early on Saturday then, as I have plans for Friday night.”

This put my mother into even more of a huff.

Sigh.

And I have memories of my own 21st. I had been away from home for 3 years, knew hardly anyone back in Smalltown any more, had said all I wanted was a nice dinner out with my family, I had friends coming up from London the next day, and then a party with my friends planned for when I was back in London.

I got the dinner. Then we went home “to drink the champagne for my 21st”. Only they had invited all of their friends round for a party. And neglected to get in anything which I could drink, other than the half glass of champagne. It was awful.

As an aside to that - one of the people who was invited to my 21st was a girl called Sue I had been friends with at school until 16, and whose mother was still friends with my mother. Her mother is still friends with mine, and I saw Sue twice last year - she came to my dad’s 70th birthday party, and then she came round with her mother to bring me a birthday card on my 40th, which was nice.

However, last time I was home my dad announced, “We have been trying to persuade Sue to come and see you in WhoTown.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Well, I think it would be nice if she visited you.”

“Well I don’t. I don’t know her.”

“But she’s your friend?”

“No, she was my friend 25 years ago. I don’t know her any more, we have nothing in common, and I wouldn’t want her to come and spend a weekend with me in my house.”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - my family are insane!