Happy homies swerve the airport queues with the ultimate staycation
Back to school, summer’s over and the C-word (Christmas) is already being bandied about in these parts, but were the holidays a hit or miss as far as Youngest was concerned?
“I feel bad, it was a bit rubbish,” I moan, guilty about my failure to take the homies on holiday.
“Holidays are over-rated,” says Eldest. “It’s a myth. Why would we want to go away? We have everything here,” he says.
“Apart from a proper blast of sun,” I say.
“Don’t like it too hot,” says Youngest, who’s never happier than watching the haar rolling in. “Remember Turkey when the beach was too hot to walk on? Terrible.”
“Anyway I did go away,” she continues. “Camping in the Pentlands.” She beams. The tent still drying in the stair is testament to the inability of the downpours to rain on her parade.
“Yes, and our trip to the Jupiter Artland sculpture park was good,” I say, remembering I did manage something cultural. “What was your favourite installation?”
“Oh the donkeys, definitely. Amazing how they’ve got them all the same with that cross on their backs…” she says.
“And we went to the sewing shop to buy material to make tops with the new machine,” she continues. True, even with the miscommunication over the automatic threader that saw Youngest Child leave the house for a while, this was a definite success.
“And I went to the beach, remember? I told you about those two women fighting on the prom?” I’m sure she’s exaggerating.
Now I think about it, it’s been a not too bad summer. We dodged the airport security/Brexit queues, and there was the carnival, which caused all three offspring to demand, as we sat on the grass watching the performers, “Why have we never seen this before?” Answer: “Because you wouldn’t come.” And, “Ibibio Sound Machine at the jazz festival was cool,” says Eldest, while for Middle “the world’s biggest indoor climbing wall” at Ratho was a definite high.
“Best thing for me is Fantastic Mrs Fox’s cubs sitting on top of the shed,” I say.
“Yeah, home’s best,” says Youngest. “‘ken,” say the boys in unison.
“OK, that’s you all booked in again for next year.”
I like to plan ahead.