"He's pissed all over the tent..."

Those of you who knew my old man will know he was an avid outdoorsman; always camping, fishing or climbing, it wasn't rare to hear of him taking off for a week to go bird-watching or hiking on his own.

On a couple of occasions, he took my older brother and I with him.

Wee toddler that I was, I was quite excited about the idea. In hindsight, I'm fairly certain that my behaviour on these trips was what limited it to a "couple".

During the first trip I threw what I believe to be a very expensive knife of his over a cliff, and I think I urinated all over the inside of the tent during our second attempt.

Fast forward 20 years and we made plans to camp at Snowdonia together. Whilst we never actually got to do it, I like to think I'd have retained at least a modicum of dignity for that trip. Third time's a charm and all that.

It's 3 years today since he died, so I figured I'd share an embarrassing childhood memory with you.

Sorry about the knife, old man.