The Way I See Things



R and I met the Family B at Croome this morning, to effect a transfer of the Boy Wonder, who's staying with his Ageds overnight again. Having a much shorter and more predictable journey than the Welsh contingent we arrived first, so we used our spare time for a rapid yomp down to the lake, to get some steps in (R) and hunt dragons (me). There were several competing Migrant Hawkers bickering over the small amount of reed bed left to them, and this one stopped long enough in mid-air for me to get a few shots.

We had a nice time with B and his parents when they arrived, though I wish it to be known that this is the last time the Boy will be eating three sausages for lunch, if I have to be responsible for his trousers later in the day. Sand. Line. Sausages and trousers on one side, me on the other. Enough said, I think.

Trousers aside, there was one unfortunate incident later in the day in Stratford, when R and B were feeding the ducks outside the theatre while I went to the bakery for treats. The Boy was in his pushchair, but was holding the safety harness he'd been wearing earlier as we walked through the park (though with the reins now detached). Suddenly a swan hauled itself up out of the river, snatched the harness out of B's hand - despite R's attempts to stop it - and carried it back into the water. Discovering that this wasn't in fact food, the swan then dropped the harness, and it immediately sank to the bottom of the river. I arrived back at Waterside at this point, to discover both my menfolk shocked and outraged, and one of them in tears (I'll leave you to guess which). Luckily I was equipped with carbs to soothe the situation, and as he hates the harness anyway, but still had the reins, which he finds inexplicably interesting, the Boy Wonder bounced back and forgot the incident remarkably fast.

Other than that though, we've all had a lovely time. It genuinely impresses me that this tiny boy is happy to visit us without his parents, and that he seems to be devising special little games and routines for when he's at our house rather than his own. He's great fun to be around, and while I wouldn't describe him as easy, he's generally good-natured and open to negotiation, which limits (at least for now) the number of pitched battles we have to go through. I'm not going to lie though - I'm now toadally zorsted. R has already - wisely - crashed out, and as there's no telling when our alarm call is going to happen, I think I'd better follow suit. Fingers crossed for a peaceful night!

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