‘The circle of life.. it’s pissing on him!’

Yes.. That is what L actually said. Out loud. In a very public place. Aged 6. But we’ll come back to that one later.

 

So, after this morning’s palava, I actually thought we would have a nice chilled day, maybe rustle up a roast dinner for around 3pm.. and then just be lazy and slob about all day.

 

Seems V had other ideas. He always has other ideas. Other.. genius..generally..requires exercise.. fucking ideas. After spending all week at work, I kinda just wanna sleep..A LOT. But hey, babe.. we did nothing yesterday.. we should go out today. We could WALK to Elsecar, take the kids to the Heritage centre.. there’s a park.. a train.. and loads of vintag-ey shops. It’s only a 3 MILE walk.. it will take.. 30-45 minutes TOPS. Over 12 MILES later.. 3 very tired, whining, morngy children, my poor feet feel like they might actually fall off.

He knew i’d be drawn in to the Vintage shop idea. I’m all for quirky bits for the house. Funky handmade clothes. Yup. I was bribed at 24 with the promise of a shopping trip.

What he forgot to mention was the fact we would get stuck in a downpour, the kids would soon refuse to walk because ‘my legs hurt daddy, I can’t walk any further.’.. and the fact I would eat my body weight in food because I am totally suffering PMT, and I swear i’m dying.

So.. fast forward to our 3.. I mean 12.. Mile walk. It was rather pleasant. We saw a little family of ducklings, a waterfall, lots of muddy puddles, some cyclists.. BUT best of all.. A PUB. So of course we made a pit stop at the Elephant and Castle. Ordered roast dinner. I remember smugly thinking ‘This is the life!’. It was quite simply a beautiful little pub. Shabby chic style. Very me. Sat outside sipping a pint of cola (Because, believe it or not, at this point I didn’t need or want wine..!) Fresh air, happy children, happy husband to be, happy wife to be. However, dinner came. If that’s what you’d call it. Two roast potatoes. A rather oddly large carrot. Solid brocolli. Cold beef. Rock hard chicken. YUM.

AG enjoyed it. I enjoyed my sweet potato. The cola was nice.. but the rest. Nada. Gutted.

The journey to the pub, was however, not all doom and gloom. I nipped to the bathroom – because yes.. I carried a child.. and my bladder is now fucked.. HA – and they had luxury CUSHELLE tushy paper. Woohoo. Was like using a cloud in the downstairs department.. Score.

So we continued on our trip. Saw the steam train. The kids were so excited. TJ was ducking and diving to catch a glimpse of it. And I have to say Elsecar is absolutely stunning.

And as promised.. there was lots of vintage stalls. Managed to buy AG two beautiful little dresses for a bargain price of £21!. And we all got hilarious Yorkshire shirts. We saw some funky little owls. Had a nosy around this little children’s toy shop. Perfect.

Then we wandered up to the park. Bought two bags of duck food. Let the kids play. And that’s when I noticed it. The adult and baby swing. But nooo.. my beautiful children was too busy to play on the swing with mummy. Damn. I did eventually get Tj on it. For all of 2 minutes. I swung a bit too high and he screamed that he wanted to get off. So in absolute dismay, I stopped the swing and let him jump out. *SOB*

But my favourite part of the day would definitely be feeding the ducks. I love feeding the ducks.. even at my age. There’s something so innocently child-like about standing there, launching pellets at unsuspecting birds and watching them almost start a full on WWE wrestling match over a tiny bit of grub. Hehehe. We even had them eating out of the palm of our hands. Even little TJ. That’s a big thing for him. He loved it. To the point that when we had ran out of Duck food, he decided he wanted to join them in their little duck gangs and persisted to chase two great fucking whack off terrifyingly menancing ducks down in to the trees with a chocolate chip cookie firmly grasped in his tiny hand. We did try warning him. We did tell him, they would chase him. Did we stop him.. ?Not exactly. Did we really try to? Not really. Did we whack out the camera and pray for some comedy gold? OF COURSE!  Did we get some? Oh boy did we.  Said ducks did turn to chase child. Said child came running with cookie safely hidden behind his back, after V told him they could smell it regardless.. (Can ducks actually smell? I mean.. they don’t exactly have noses.. do they?). Then appeared Harold – This was a huge.. scary looking,, beasty bird.. – with a fish in his mouth. V ran an hilarious commentary, insisting it was infact eating a duck and someone should stop it.. that’s when L said it. ‘It’s the circle of life.. It’s pissing on him.’ We was *doubled up crying with laughter* lets say.. unable to be angry for long.

So.. on our walk back.. along the muddy paths.. down by the water.. we decided we needed to have a sing song.. and to satisfy my forever craving mcdonalds appetite we’d call there for tea, and catch the bus home. WOOHOO, my little heart skipped a beat. No more walking.. and a Nugget meal for tea. YUMMY. So much better than that overly dead moo cow we had for dinner. Infact i’m sure that cow must’ve died twice before it reached my plate.. it’s the only way it could taste so rancid.

All was going to plan. We had McD’s. The kids got the *bastard* fabulous helium balloons.  Bus was due at 7:02PM according to my app. So off we trot along ‘Carpet lane’.. and you guessed it. TJ let his balloon go. Cue TJ Sobbing for EVER.  So what did V do to console him? Let him have L’s balloon, which L kindly agreed. Then said balloon went floating to the sky. Cue L screaming, full on MELTDOWN. So has grown ups, we decided to let the third balloon go, and gently explained to the kids that the balloon had gone up to heaven to Auntie Amy, and Mummy’s great Nanny and Gramps. Did they care? Absolutely-fucking-not. They continued to scream. And scream. And scream. We had to laugh. If we didn’t I think we might have been borderline breakdown. We arrived at the stop for ten to. Perfecto. Quick smoke time and then we’d be on our way home. HA. HAHAHA. Turn’s out the stagecoach app is a *lying little shit* little out of date.. and the next bus wasn’t due for 30 minutes. 30 MORE MINUTES OF SCREAMING, ANGRY, TIRED CHILDREN. So you guessed it.. we walked. And we walked.. and we walked all the way home.

And said three children crashed out. PEACE.

Hj arrived back from his dad’s sporting some fancy new Sketchers. Yes. SKETCHERS. Not Clarks like his delightful father and nanny and grandad have insisted he had for the last 2 and half years.. Sketchers. Now I’m not a funny moo. They’re snazzy, and I do like them. Just slightly  *pissed off* confused how all of a sudden it’s perfectly acceptable for my boy to have Sketchers instead when we’ve been spending £40+ on a single pair of shoes every 3-4 months for him.

I’ve missed my boy something mad this weekend. Because regardless of all the witty banter in this post, it’s been a fantastic day and I just wish he was part of it. He will be soon. But that is for a different post.  We had cuddles, watched peppa and paw patrol and he’s also now sound asleep with his beloved bear.

Bubble bath time and chill with the future Husband now.

 

Goodnight.

x

elsecar

 

 

 

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