After a sleeping, a cooked breakfast and still no clue as to when Godzilla was to be coming home, or if, indeed, he was even being dropped at home or if we had to collect him, we opted for a trip to Healesville Sanctuary for the day.
Mostly because it is relatively nearby the uncle’s house, so we can pick Godzilla up if need be.
The plans were made, including my “I’m going to have a shower, can you please make the sandwiches for lunch and I’ll finish stuff off when I get out,” request.
I have my shower.
I get out.
I ask “How many sandwiches did you make?”
I get an “Oh, were you talking to me” response.
I make the sandwiches and rest of the snacks, muttering rude words under my breath, because I just want to leave.
We pack. I rug up and make numerous suggestions to Grumpy Pants and Monkey Boy to do the same. Chippie is … well, he is Chippie. He has a trantrum about the warm jumper we attempt to shove his head and body into. He finds another jacket that has missed he washing basket and is partly emerging from under the bed. He demands to wear it. Meh.
Partway there, mid-chat about something we can’t understand, he decides he actually wants his red jacket, and not the blue one he demanded some 53 minutes earlier. I suggest having a screaming tantrum as we drive along the freeway is not a good idea. Stopping is difficult and I shall be forced to undo my seatbelt in order to extract him and toss him out the window, and that would be dangerous, as we might crash and I will get hurt. He kicks Monkey Boy instead.
But only once, as I inflict A Look upon him and he is suddenly happy again.
As we approach Healesville, we see the sign for the historic railway, and, just for something different, we forgo the Sanctuary, spend several moments standing on the freezing train station platform, before heading to the nearby playground, standing around, freezing, whilst Chippie plays instead of eating, and GrumpyPants and Monkey Boy bitch about being “bloody freezing”. Much talk of nipples, and their stiffness