Being English in Wales!

If you're an Englishman in Wales you expect to get the piss taken out of you every once in a while. It's normally good natured and we're always beating them at everything so they need to get the frustration out somehow.

Anyway... this is the sort of thing that end up in my in-tray during the Six Nations weekends.

A family of England supporters head out shopping, for Barbours, in Richmond, one Saturday before Christmas.

While in a sport shop, the son picks up a Welsh rugby shirt and says to his sister, "I've decided I'm going to be a Welsh supporter and I'd like this shirt for my Christmas present!"

The sister is outraged at this; promptly whacks him round the head and says, "Go talk to your mother."

Off goes the little lad, with Welsh shirt in hand and finds his mother.

"Mum"

"Yes, son?"

"I've decided I'm going to be a Welsh supporter and I'd like this shirt for my Christmas present."

The mother is outraged at this; promptly whacks him round the head and says, "Go talk to your father."

Off he goes with the Welsh shirt in hand and finds his father.

"Dad."

"Yes, son?"

"I've given this a lot of thought; I've watched the style of rugby they play and I've decided I'm going to be a Welsh rugby supporter and I would like this Welsh shirt for my Christmas present."

The father is outraged at this; promptly whacks his son round the head and says: "No son of mine is ever going to be seen in THAT!"

About half an hour later, they are all back in the car heading home. The father turns to the son and says: "Son, I hope you've learned an important lesson today?"

The son turns to his father and says: "Yes, Father, I have".

Father says: "Good son, and what is it?"

The son replies: "I've only been a Welsh supporter for an hour and I already hate you English cunts!"