Okay, so it may sound absurd to talk about a bustling, quiet getaway, but for 7 days now, visiting a sleepy seaside resort has been nothing short of trying to put your last order in one minute before happy hour closes. I haven’t stopped jumping up and down, waving my arms around and screaming a lot. All the promise of lazy afternoons and late wake up calls, or reading books without a moment’s disturbance has failed to materialise. Instead my days have been filled with being handed a shopping list the size of a small African country, requests to have bicycle wheels repaired so that the locusts can go visit other locusts nearby, and routine visits to the chemist where amongst other things I have had to acquire lady products and cream for the one locust who has apparently now managed to get chicken pox. My one real seasonal shopping experience consisted of browsing for trainer bras. That was a real treat! I’m not sure what was worse? Spending two hours in a clothing shop or realising that my daughter is sprouting boobs! I hope the second week of the school holidays goes a little more my way. The way I have looked forward to for a year. Waking up early and getting out of bed late, nudge, nudge! Lunches that feel like breakfast, but could pass for an early supper. Walks to the beach, some light activity that mostly consists of deciding what beer to drink, and then the mandatory afternoon nap to prepare for the evening braai that will no doubt be taken care of by the gangly, almost a man teenager, who is trying to sip all my leftover beer. Which is impossible, as everyone knows, I do not leave any so-called leftover beer.
Well, that’s the dream. In truth, today I woke to let the dogs out at 5am. Got back to bed to be reminded why I had to buy those lady products, and spent the rest of time feeding the locusts and listening to their demands for the day. It’s not even 10am and I’m thinking that afternoon nap is coming on. Oops, I spoke to soon, here comes the itchy and scratchy locust…….damn it!