Family Escape (FTS)

Not, as it may be perceived, an escape from the family for the weekend, which is something I not only very much desire, but something I need for the safety and wellbeing of everyone.

Still, Grumpy finished work early on Saturday, so I uttered “Fuck This Shit” (FTS) and hustled everyone along.

Some snacks were backed, a last minute accommodation was booked, and off we went.

Found ourselves, again, in Warrnambool, with the aim of seeing some whales. A two minute stop at Logan Beach saw us overwhelmed with the need for some lunch, given we hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and it had reached post 3.00p.m.

The tweenager wasn’t even surly and whiney this time. I’m hoping he has learnt that there is no point in trying to escape the Family Day/Weekend concept and to just go with the flow. He tends to decide they are all shit, and never wants to go, even though he cannot produce any shred of evidence as to why they are shit … none of them (well, except maybe the one two weeks ago, where I finally lost my shit at his determination to be surley, whiney and sad for no other reason that he wanted to be, and I yelled at him).

I, too, have my limits, what with being all human and shit. People being sad simply because they want to be, and going out of their way to avoid reality gets to me sometimes. This was one of those times. Which is also why I need to say “fuck this shit” occasionally and just escape.

Anyhoo, there were snacks to be consumed, trees to climb, cartwheels to be done, running around like lunatics to participate in and a flying fox to enjoy.FDWarrnambool01

 

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So I did them all. Even the kids and Grumpy Pants got in on the action.

Physical tiredness is a really nice feeling. It provides a sense of satisfaction, not to mention a decent sleep. Which I had.

Although I did wake to find Monkey Boy and Chippie in the same bed, even though the last minute accommodation we had booked had left us with beds to spare.

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Because we were near a beach, Chippie had decided that we must go for a swim. He appears yet to comprehend that beach does not necessarily equal swim, especially when it is cold. Thankfully, t’was not all that cold, but cold enough for me not to be utterly ridiculous and enter the icy ocean. The kids did, though.

They spent quite some time mucking about in the sand, building Mt Suvuvius (I think the Chipster mean Vesuvius) repeatedly. In a strange twist of fate, Suvuvius was washed away by the chilly waves, as opposed to drowning the nearby population in a searing lava.

At around the time hypothermia looked like it was going to set in, we managed to extract them from the sandy swamp they had created, throw them under a cold, public shower. This amused Grumpy considerably, and threw Chippie into one of his trademark, vehement desires to be left alone and hating the world.

A long, slow trek home, via the Timboon Railway Shed Distillery for lunch and wander along a trestle bridge and rail trail and home for some much needed showers and lazing around before bed.

Just the kind of weekend I need when I reach the point of saying “fuck this shit” … how was your weekend?

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