Standing Still For a Moment

I’m writing this from my in-laws lounge in sunny Bracknell. I’ve just come to a stop after two days of non stop car travel, excursions and family bonding for small boys and their mother.

This holiday business is hard work, but enjoyable. I’ve got a couple of vignettes for you from this trip.

Firstly, my lovely wife had obviously forgotten how fickle the English weather is as she only packed shorts and t-shirts in her suitcase for this trip. Her mother had convinced her that the UK was in the midst of the warmest, driest summer since records began. Sadly when we arrived it was cold, grey and raining. You can imagine the whinging that provoked.

The other vignette was this afternoon on the beach at West Wittering, the only beach I know that is run by it’s own company. Two small boys had enjoyed their afternoon crabbing with the Mahoneys and assorted cousins and were desperate for a quick paddle in the sea. I told them that I didn’t have any towels or changes of clothes but that they could go in as long as they only went ankle deep. You can guess what happened next. A very soggy MIGO spent the entire trip back to Bracknell complaining about his wet bum.