The Lumpy Man

When I was about 5 we went to Bushmills Distillery on the North Coast. I’m not totally sure why my parents thought that this was the perfect day out for children, (it was probably raining) but perhaps it was less to do with us, and more to do with their penchant for whiskey! I remember nothing about the Distillery visit. Well, except one thing. The lumpy man. There was a man on the tour who very sadly had some sort of horrible skin condition which meant he had unusual lumps all over him. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before or since. I don’t think my parents have ever shusshed me so much in their lives. Apparently for the duration of the tour I repeatedly said ‘Dad look!!! Mum, look!! Look at the lumpy man!!’

The above photo was taken 4 years ago today. It makes me smile, partly because it’s a nice photo, but also because it reminds me of just before the photo was taken. We had puffed our way to the top of Lindisfarne Castle in Northumberland. Despite being only 2, Joel’s obsession at the time was spelling and he had spent all morning loudly singing the alphabet forwards and backwards repeatedly, broken only by spelling the months of the year one after another. Despite being huge because I was 33 weeks pregnant, I had carried him up the hill on my shoulders. Andrew had taken his hat off while walking because he was too warm revealing his Optune treatment which basically looked like wires all over his head attached to more wires in a backpack. We’d taken a short bus journey to the Island and everyone had stood way back from us. One little boy stared the whole time and was mouthing that he thought that Andrew had a bomb on his head.

I have never had so many strange looks and whispers in my life. We must have been the weirdest looking family in the world.

We still talk about the lumpy man and how mortified my parents were that I couldn’t stop staring at him. I like to think that Andrew, Joel and I are discussed in someone else’s holiday memory as ‘The huge pregnant lady, carrying an alphabet machine for a 2 year old and a husband with a bomb on his head.’

It’s amazing that in the picture, we look really rather normal!!

Over and out,

Ruth