Why do we take holidays? Well, it’s a complex question. We take holidays to rest. To relax. To adhere to the ‘change is good as a rest’ maxim, maybe to get some sunshine at a time when we don’t got none at home, and maybe because we’re just fucking exhausted, overworked, and knackered out. So we take that break. Come to the sun. And rest. And that lasts until Joey launches himself at me as I walk through the hotel entrance, a self-propelled projectile aimed for my solar plexus.
If I actually viewed such an event, however physically painful, however bone-breakingly intense, as anything other than ‘the best thing in the world’, I’d have grounds for complaint. When his older and oh-so-much-cooler sister approaches in her much more measured, pre-teenly-nonchalant way because she too wants to share the lurve, then the world is back on its axis again.
So here we are. Oh, my daughter’s here too. Whassername. In case we need an adult in the group. With my son-in-law. With whom I’ll watch any Spurs games on view here, so Joey can comfort us during and after. His 6 year-old view on such things is much healthier than mine and his dad’s, not having suffered quite so long. I had Joey practising the phrase ‘cooom-on Cit-eh’ the other day, for when we have to convert. Well, Mel grew up in Leeds and that’s up north. So how far can it be from Manchester? Giving us ‘legacy rights’ to jump on that bandwagon so lavishly fuelled by Arab oil money.
Tonight the daughter and Tory Boy are going out for a ‘date night’. Whilst we’re ‘lumbered’ with the kids. Oh noooooooo… A ‘sleepover’, even though the room is precisely the same as theirs, to the millimetre.
We have strict rules to follow. Reading, bedtime, cuddles, sleep. No admission til 7am and no iPads til then.
I’ve never been great at rules. Always a bit of an issue for me. Though I’m generally ok with Lila & Joey’s rules. They align more with my world view. Which is, roughly, anything for a decent night’s sleep and there’s no such thing as ‘too much sugar’.
Happy Friday
A xxxx

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