Day 22 – far out brussel sprout

in the 30s again, 60 bushfires burning across the state, 10 out of control. All night you could smell bushfires. This morning – and all day – the sky has been a hazy shade of smoky beige and the air, even in the middle of the city smells of bushfires. The winds have been amazing, which kind of figures.
You know how most afternoons nights you get home from work and you’re tired, cranky, and irritable? And you have this tone of trying to sound interested and all Mary Poppins, but everyone knows you’re just Cruella in a fake fur coat? And that after you’ve yelled at the kids, got them into bed, told them you’re coming back to read a story/sing a song when you know full well you’re not and the guilt settles in like a impenetrable fog? Well tonight, I didn’t have one of those.

Tonight I got home, we all went over to the beach. The boys swam and played in the water, dug in the sand, and we just hung out as a family. And we were all happy, until Felix found a two-pronged stem thingy off one of the pine trees, Chef made an inappropriate reference to whipping and me, so he naturally whipped Oscar with it, which resulted in it being confiscated and well, the tears that resulted were the tears of a small school boy having got through a long hot day of school, a long afternoon and too fun at the beach.

The end.