Getting out the house

Yesterday morning, my son announced that he wanted to go somewhere.  Somewhere that is open.  Which is reasonable and, as we were having a brief gap in the rain, was probably a good idea.  So we went to Freshwater to pick up a parcel, buy some Christmas cake decorations and pick up some more dishwasher tablets.  I know – it doesn’t sound terribly exciting but, as it involves a car ride, it counts as an activity.

When we got to the car park (which is incredibly cheap), the machine said that it wasn’t in operation.  Yay! I thought.  Car parking charges have been suspended for Christmas!  Joy to the world!  No, I was just meant to use the machine at the other end of the car park.  Which I found out when I got back to the car and found my penalty charge notice for fifty quid (reduced to twenty-five if you pay within a fortnight).  UGH.  I thought my husband would be massively irritated but in fact he was extremely gracious.

So that rather put a downer on things.  However, we got our other jobs done and the children were reasonably well behaved.  Both insisted on having their own basket to carry round Sainsburys which was a bit difficult because the basket is about the same size as my daughter.

After we got home, we all (my husband had avoided the first part of the trip by having a delicious lie in) went out for a walk to the beach.

Turf walk - it's a bit muddy.  Try not to slip over
Turf walk – it’s a bit muddy. Try not to slip over

3 thoughts on “Getting out the house

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