Holiday Mark IV – Can We Go Home Daddy?

A lay in two days in a row? OK, if ever there was a red letter day, today is that day. It was amazing, even the birds outside were thanking me for not waking them up so early. I did sneak back upstairs after breakfast and have a quick sneak under the duvet, to hear a voice a few seconds later drift up the stairs informing me that “Your little girl has her finger stuck in the lock!” Seriously, you have to be kidding me! What was she doing with her fingers in the lock? But by the time I got to her, my mother-in-law had put cold water on her fingers and the situation was all calmed down.

We decided on a working farm today and set off in high spirits, which quickly went down the pan over a packet of crisps that we were refusing to hand out, and before you start the ‘shame on you’ speech, we had only just had breakfast. The discussion took an unexpected turn when my wife started yelling like she was inhaling helium that my son had climbed out of his seat belt whilst we were still driving and he was not going back in. Fearing points on my license and a chat with a police officer I stamped on the brakes and screeched into a side turning like a sixties bank robber. My car is due for its yearly government check and based on the smoke from the brakes I can confirm the brakes are all working a charm, Officer. A slight smell of burning emanated from the brakes as I put the seat belt back on, or was that a smell of panic from my bottom, but the situation was now back under control

As we arrived at the farm, there was a worrying turn of events where the gift shop was also the entrance, and also where you paid your ‘parent tax’, sorry entrance fee. My kids were already melting down over the gift shop so I announced as it was holiday they could choose a gift when they left, which backfired as I paid for the tickets and they asked “Can we go now, Daddy?” Hang on a minute here, my little Cherry Pies, I just paid Sweet Cheeks over here a vast amount of money that back in the day would have been called daylight robbery, so we will be getting our value for money I can assure you, and we will enjoy it!

As my son was still starving after Daddy had deprived him of a packet of crisps, we decided to get drinks and a snack and passed a chicken hut with lots of chickens in a run. Bearing in mind they had been there a while and hundreds of thousands of children had been here before us, just thirty seconds was all Captain Delicate needed before whacking the side of the chicken hut yelling “Wakey, wakey chickens!” Superb, the thieving robbers had had most of Daddy’s money to get in here, the gift shop was still looming and now I was going to be paying for twenty to thirty chickens all having heart attacks due to fright. We ushered my delicate son round to the cafe where they had a Shepherds Hut with enamel cups, plates and furniture for the kids to play with, and I went and grabbed drinks. Seconds later I saw children, along with my son, laying a blanket for a pretend picnic and they were calm and serene until I heard furniture being scraped from inside the shepherds hut and saw a kitchen table coming out of the front door! No prizes for guessing which child was ransacking the place! I could only imagine in later life Captain Delicate’s picnics will be the talk of the town. I pleaded with my son to put the kitchen table back in the shepherds hut, and walked back to the bench to sip on my cafe latte.

All around was the sound of the wind whistling, chickens clucking faintly still alive in the distance and ripples of the nearby lake, which was broken by the sound of enamel cups being clanged together with the sound of “Snack time!” These used to be new enamel cups but my son had chipped the enamel with the force and given them the three hundred year old panic stricken distressed look. Having rearranged the shepherds hut, and given the enamel ultra tough cups and plates the ‘loved look’ we moved on rather quickly.

A kind lady approached us and asked would our children like to hold baby chickens and I was super nervous. My little girl was fine and held the baby chick like she was holding bone china, but Captain Delicate was a whole different story and even my wife, who is normally on the defence, was backing me up by saying to my son “Don’t crush him!” As I held my hands together and prayed on my knees like never before, a clone of my son appeared. He looked like my son, even sounded like my son but held the baby chick like it was his own child. For a minute I was looking round to find where my son was, as this one was gentle like a ballerina. I was sure this chicken had done the impossible and turned my son around, so when he went onto to the model cow and asked to have a go at milking I was not worried as I had a new son. As Captain Delicate held his sticky paws around the udders, I was sure we had turned a corner, until I heard a shriek from my wife and looked down to find my son drinking from the udders. To every other parent I was a monster not giving my son enough drink, and so utterly deprived he was now drinking the water from a model cow covered in dirt and enough bacteria to qualify for a bleach advert featuring cartoon germs.

Throughout the entire day my kids were begging to go home, and to every adult, and even the staff, they thought my children had had enough, but in reality they wanted to go to the gift shop, but thanks to the Daylight Robbers I was having every single penny’s worth. I was surprised when we did get to the gift shop as my kids chose straight away, and the drive home was also calm, as the kids were so tired.

As I cuddled both of my kids to bed I had that warm and lovely feeling inside, until my son accidentally head butted me and I tasted my front teeth which were now at a weird angle. Thanks kids, I love you from the root of my freshly buckled teeth.