I want to write a book called "Travel With Children: Are You Fucking Insane?"


They look so normal here, don’t they?

They’re so happy, and affectionate, and adorable. I swear if I hadn’t given birth to them I’d have to immediately adopt.

But.

This picture is not normal, it’s extraordinary and why? Because it was taken at the END of the day trip to the Blue Mountains and despite being together in the car and being dragged to several destinations of largely adult interest and being asked to give up a promised walk to a waterfall when we realised how steep was the slope down, and how heavy would be the parental carrying task going back up; despite all this, they smile.

So why do I use this picture under this post’s very negative heading?

As they say, it’s the exception that proves the rule and The Rule Is That Holidays With Children Are More Work-Better Scenery.

And why do I post this today? Because today I have again succumbed to the annual need to have something to get me through the last dire three months of the year: I have booked the January holiday beach house.

And, crikey, as I tremble at the thought of yet another delusionally optimistic leap into the land of More Work-Better Scenery, I am going to hold this picture close to my heart. If they can smile after giving up the waterfall, the least I can do is send off the cheque for the deposit on their beach holiday.

mtc
bec