Grumpy had booked us a massage each.
Ah, bliss! Just what I needed.
I walked kids to school, walked home. Walked up to my massage, and walked home.
I had some lunch.
And walked to pick Godzilla up from kinder.
While I was in the “relaxy” mood, I thought we might stop off at a cafe on the way home for a latte and a milkshake.
Godzilla felt this was a good idea too.
So we did. Chippie in pram, happily sleeping, and Godzilla just worn out enough from kinder to be tired, but not so worn out as to be obnoxious.
And me recently be-massaged. It couldn’t have been better.
The only seat available required Houdini like maneouvering to get the pram up next to the table, and wedged Godzilla in. Where, inevitably, he needed to go to the toilet, which required more maneouvering and table-climbing-under and the like.
Chippie then woke and cried.
Despite all this, the staff didn’t seem to notice we were there and served every table around us.
A lovely young couple, with baby, all smiles and immaculate clothing sat next to us, and did the In-The-Club thing – that smile of empathy