It’s sunny today. Not just that, it’s actually warm too. Summer must be on it’s way. I bloody love summer, especially when school is out and I get the kids to myself in the sunshine and we all have so much fun making memories…. Or something like that in my giddy head anyway. Doesn’t always quite pan out that way…
Daydream: We’re all going to head out somewhere picturesque, we’re going to eat the yummiest of foods (made from scratch with my own fair hands of course). We’ll play football and cricket and have one of those days that shall be treasured forever.
Reality : Wasps. Spoilers of all picnics ever. You cannot enjoy the lovingly made yummy food when you’re having to jump up and run for your life every 5 minutes. Not to mention telling the kids to stay calm and not to flap whilst simultaneously flapping your arse off! Then working out how to dump the entire picnic in the bin so you can get indoors. Away from the outside, away from sunshine and away from the stripy insects of doom!
Daydream : I’m going to get a big tent and we’re going to spend our weekends under the stars. Good old fashioned family bonding time. No games consoles, no tablets just the kids and I and scrabble and chat.
Reality : I hate camping. How could I possibly forget how much I bloody hate bloody camping?! I like actual beds with actual pillows and an actual duvet. I love a real cooker and am very much a fan of roofs! Scrabble is shit too. I’ve lost to the 9 year old 3 times in a row now, I cannot cope with this. Did anyone pack the tablets?
Anyone know the WiFi code for this field???
Daydream : This one takes place just after Wimbledon usually. We’ll go play tennis all of us. Nice family game of tennis. Hair up in high ponytail, tennis dress on – let’s go. I reckon if we practice hard enough by the end of the summer we’ll all be borderline professionals and I’ll have legs like Sharapova!
Reality : “Mum. Tell him that was out”
“I’m not playing against her”
“It’s 40-30 NOT deuce”
“mum, tell her to serve properly ”
” I’m too hot ”
” I’m hungry”
“I’ve hurt my foot ”
… and STILL I don’t have Sharapova’s legs..
Daydream : I bloody love the beach. Kids playing on the sand, me sunbathing with a trashy mag. A stroll along the seafront with chips, maybe an ice cream. It’s going to be so lovely.
Reality : We live more than an hour train ride from the beach. Loads of bags, loads of kids, loads of stress and that’s just the journey. It’s OK though it’ll still be a lovely day.
Ah-unpack onto the sand- chuck a bucket and spade at the kids. Get out my magazine… relax…
Oh my, who just kicked sand in my eye?
Why is that football travelling towards my head at speed.
Oh and don’t even get me started about the wasps…