Why isn’t there a proper blog post today?
Dear A. Reader,
Yesterday was Day 13 of the winter school holidays in this fair state. I don’t know if you are a superstitious person A. (if I may so bold as to call you A.) but I’m not. Or rather, I wasn’t. Until yesterday.
Here is just a sample of what Day 13 held for me:
- taking a 45 minute bus trip to the city with the Great Unwashed of the Western Suburbs. Oh, and my three children too;
- battling the school holiday crowds at the Aquarium and remember how the last time I battled the school holiday crowds at the Aquarium, I promised myself I would never battle the school holiday crowds at the Aquarium again and yet, here I was, battling the school holiday crowds. AT. THE. AQUARIUM;
- being forced to dance to “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It” by a grown man in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles costume;
- taking a scenic two kilometre stroll along the riverside with an unfenced sheer drop to the murky waters below and with Mr Justice getting a bad case of the Gumps and running way ahead and The Pixie lagging way behind, gazing longingly at the shiny water the entire journey as if to say “The water calls me, momma. I must go to it…”;
- having The Pixie decide she wanted to go home and Mr Justice decide he wanted to stay only fifteen minutes into our second live performance of the day;
- watching Tiddles McGee open a packet of potato chips like it was a party popper in a public space, spraying all and sundry in chip crumbs, and then try to eat them off the floor;
- balancing a lidless bottle in one hand, a partially-chewed brownie in the other, and a clingy almost-five year old and an open handbag on my lap and being unable to stop Tiddles McGee from eating the chips off the floor;
- noticing other parents watching Tiddles McGee eating chips off the floor;
- deciding I didn’t care that Tiddles McGee was eating chips off the floor because at least he wasn’t trying to escape the auditorium;
- noticing other parents noticing me not caring that Tiddles McGee was eating chips off the floor;
- discovering that the only reason The Pixie hadn’t asked me for more snacks was because she was picking her nose and eating it – and all while those parents were staring at us;
- realising that I was about to run out of snacks all together, had only $3 in my wallet and a 10 minute walk along the river to an ATM.
July 9th 2:12pm was the time officially recorded as the Moment My Spirit Broke, as I pulled three lollipops out of my handbag – without even a flourish – and stuffed them into my children’s mouths.
And in breaking out the Lollipops of Last Resort when I did, I neglected to take into account the following:
- we hadn’t even made it to intermission
- it was another two hours until we were being airlifted out of the city by my husband in the Love Bus
- there was still a legally-obligated trip to a park alongside the river to survive
- I, in my great wisdom, had stripped all the kids beds and stuffed the sheets & quilt covers in the washing machine before we left but hadn’t hung them out to dry.
And that’s why there isn’t a proper post today, A. Reader. That. Is. Why.
Yours sincerely, etc.