Wet Wet Wet (part one)


I knew the day was going to be a soggy one before if even opened my eyes this morning: the lack of sunlight through my curtains, the sound of rain outside.

But of course it was going to rain today. Yesterday had been dry and rather pleasant (by British spring standards) and we’d managed a trip to the beach complete with ice creams. Rare for a bank holiday, which are better known for shocking weather, indecent amounts of queuing and and at least one major meltdown per family unit.

What a difference a day makes.

But of course it couldn’t last. Especially with Boo heading off to the coast again on a school trip. For all the failings of the British state education system, you have to pity the teachers most when faced with a miserable trip in the wet with 90 under-8s in tow. Waterproofed to the hilt, Boo went into school with a face like a wet weekend. Ha ha, the parent helpers didn’t look so smug about being invited along any more. I patted myself on the back for not being an alpha-mum, top of the list for any school ‘perks’.

I bumped into the reception class teacher in the hall.

‘Good luck!’ I wished her, grimacing on her behalf.

‘No, look, it’s brightening up,’ she (over) optimistically suggested, pointing at the sky full of grey clouds.

‘Yeah, you’re right. The bracing sea breezes should have the clouds blown away,’ I replied.

Even if the poor kids didn’t get soaked to the skin then there would still be a strong chance of the lighter ones being blown out to sea. Don’t let it be said that childhood obesity doesn’t have its benefits.

Cold, windy and wet. Now add 90 miserable kids and you’ve got Boo’s school trip.

Still, I guess it builds character. I just can’t decide whether that’s the kids’ or the adults’ resilience that’s tested more.


5 thoughts on “Wet Wet Wet (part one)”

  1. Duck tastes excellent with grapes. I can give you a recipe. I will hunt it down and deliver it with fervour, having been subjected to all the duck songs (2 and 3 aren’t a patch on the original).

    I’ve never thought of it as a subtle marketing strategy by lemonade companies, though. Hm. Sneaky stuff.

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