Although I am now back home I realise that, in my exhausted state, I have left my readers on tenterhooks wondering if I survived the holiday with the 3½ year old. Incidentally, if you have ever wondered what a tenterhook is (and who hasn’t?), it is indeed a tenterhook not a tenderhook. This refers to the hooks used to stretch bleaching linen on the tenterground – never say you don’t learn something with which to impress your friends when reading this blog. I suppose, depending on the friends, you may bore them rigid, if so, you need different friends!
Back to day 4. When you are 3½ travelling on a train is fun. You don’t actually have to go anywhere. Thanks go to the train driver who waved to a small boy making him very happy. We travelled up the line, we travelled down, we stopped to watch hovercrafts and I explained that the train was even older than Granny – hard to believe I know. Then for some reason best know to herself my daughter decided to relive her youth and swim in the sea at Sandown beach. This is England. This is October. She did have a wetsuit but there was incipient storm Brian and rain to contend with. Small person Edward contented himself with a swift paddle. We did however pass the house where Mummy grew up and the building site that used to be the hotel where Granny once worked, all reminders that there is a past.
Just because dashing about the beach didn’t put a dent in a small person’s energy levels, we returned to the camp site to play a rigorous game of football. The liking for energetic games definitely does noyt come from my side of the family. Then to get value from the hot tub we tried it out again in the rain. Yes, we are officially crazy. I can report that hot tub chemicals take the coating off one’s glasses (as in ones you wear not ones you drink out of), good job I was planning to take out a second mortgage to get new ones.