True to typical British form the Easter Bank Holiday was a washout. Rain, wind, mud, and chill-factor – not of the “chillaxing” kind. Day 1 was ok, a drive to Grandma’s, stopping off for juice at Granny’s, lots of time with the elements of joy, and a fish and chip supper. So far, so good.
Day 2 brought more of the same rubbish wet stuff, so the TV went on. Pizza and films, interspersed with a bit of researching the next cool app to beg Daddy to download for
our his iPad. For some reason Mummy started to get a bit cross with us, off and on. Can’t think why.
When Easter Sunday dawned, bringing the Easter bunny and his mercurial sugar-fuel, the mood swings really kicked in. The mercury also got a bit tempestuous where the weather was concerned too, so no testing out my new roller-skates. At the end of the day we took Grandma to her favourite restaurant, on the sea-front, for tea. We found it extreeeeemely difficult to sit still, and had 1,2,3,4,5……… (oh I lose count) tantrums.
Somewhere between chips and my second Fanta, the weather broke – briefly, but long enough for Mummy to frog-march us onto the beach:
As we giggled our way back to our table, the wet splodges began to fall again. I chanced my arm; “When will I be old enough to drink Coke, Mummy?”
I’m linking this up to I Spy at Mum of One, where the letter is U. It’s extremely tenuous, but if you look very carefully you might catch a glimpse of it