Thursday, 16 February 2012

Half Term. Half Cut.

If drowning your sorrows in drink were an Olympic sport, then half term is the intensive training session that makes you go that extra yard (of ale). *Sigh.*

And it's not just drowning sorrows, there's the aggravation, the annoyance, the need to drown out the voices in your head ... though they rather unfortunately turn out to belong to a real life child. Yes that one, the one tugging at your sleeve 307 TIMES A MINUTE and constantly repeating "Mummy, can I have..." "Mummy, can I have..." "Mummy, can I have..." And the inner scream....*whispers*... which is you.

And a week long half term in February is ABSOLUTELY the worst holidaying-for-pleasure idea in the entire world. Oh, it seems tempting enough... lurking, half-dressed, at the end of a six week slog of early mornings and uniform wrangling. But do not be deceived.

A week is just NOT enough time to even reclaim a child's mind from the school routine so they still get up irresponsibly early even while you're dribbling on your pillow hoarsely whispering "But it's the holidays..."

And they hang around making the house look untidy, creating endless washing while apparently never changing out of their pyjamas. HOW DO THEY DO THAT?

AND it's too cold to leave the house.... You know this because every time you try to take them somewhere in pursuit of a holiday adventure (because YOU NEVER LEARN) ...  they complain that they're cold. They're right, it's cold. No flies on them.

Actual seaside actually today

And while admiring the grey sky and the grey sea and the entirely grey buildings of an out-of-season beach side resort....  Just when you're wondering about being home, in the warm, with a HOT cup of tea (immediately followed by a very cold gin and tonic), there's a tug of the sleeve: "Are we going home yet?"

As if you WANTED to be at the seaside in the middle of the week in February.

I might at this point mention: Today we went to the seaside. Don't ask.

*Opens gin*

*Glugs gin*


  1. Yep, I'm right there with you. Just areturned from a vain attempt to spend Christmas vouchers in White Stuff with two kids in tow demanding a wee/drink/tour of Claire's Accessories/ the bus home. And they wake at 5.30am. My solution is to spend the week with my parents. My mother reckons it a privilege to breakfast them...

  2. Haha! Funny post. It looks very beautiful there anyway.

    Have tried gin as everyone seems to love it and it's yucky. Much too sour for me.

    Thanks for linking to blogaholics. Enjoy back to school time Tomorrow.

    1. Thank you, I'm going to be waiting at the school gates at sunrise :)


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