Peters and Lee
Blimey, is it that long since I’ve written? We went on holiday by mistake as I’m sure those three of you out there who read this, myself included, know. We had a wonderful holiday cottage (thank you from the bottom of our hearts Greg) in idyllic countryside. So why did I find myself shouting so much? Had there been a visitors’ book (I know I’ve gone on about this before) then I’m sure I would have waxed lyrical about our halcyon days, but in truth, holidaying with three kids under five is a terrible strain. Made all the worse by the fact that I have had some superb holidays before them, which come back to haunt me everytime I smell suntan lotion, hear the sound of a seagull or get a sniff of a tequila. I know it is not their fault that they want toilet, drink, pedalo, swim, chips, drink, toilet, helter skelter, swim, drink, lie down, toilet and they want it NOW, but frankly I am too long in the tooth and too exhausted from just lugging a double buggy full of crap down the beach to be able to smilingly rise to the occasion. So I am ‘in a minute (ing)” every ten seconds, “can you just wait until (ing)” desperately and “for Chrissake (ing) more than the average vicar. To no avail of course and they just gaze at my imploding face balefully and repeat the demand again and again (how I love the Hedex “Mum can I have a rabbit” ad btw). Also have you noticed how much it bugs kids if you start to repeat things over and over like they do (click the small pics for bigger ones).