After Grumpy’s birthday dinner with extended family last night, it was the “catch up” and “spending the day with extended family, because we can” day.
One brother had come from interstate, along with a nephew, so it was a great opportunity to do the “only for weddings, big birthdays and funerals family time”. Not births. We don’t all go too far out of our way for births. Possibly due to the excessive number of offspring Grumpy’s mother has, and their collective offspring. It’s a lot of people. But we do make the effort for weddings, big birthdays and funerals.
Anyhoo, it was organised last night at dinner in the usual fashion; “where does everyone want to go?” “What time will we meet?” etc etc
The “Um, I’m not sure that’s really a suitable place for my kids, they’re a bit little?” and “It’s gonna be stinking hot, do you think that’s a good idea?” were mentioned but not considered high priority for discussion.
After mention of approximately thirty five different options, and the top seven chosen and discussed in slightly more detail, it was decided “we’ll go there then! ”
Where “there” is could be anybody’s guess. As I had organised the dinner for Grumpy and sent the relevant emails out, delegated the booking of the restaurant to Grumpy and ensured everyone knew the EXACT (none of this “around 7.30” or “between 7 and 7.30” for this lot …. oh, no. That means arrival at approximately 8.25pm or later – you have to be firm) time and place to be, I was happy to let the organisation happen around me.
Just make sure it’s relatively toddler friendly – although, not specifically – and tell me the time and place.
Will I never learn?
Thus it was decided to meet at a brother’s place at 11.00am. We didn’t rush. There’s not point. It stresses me. I twitch and get nervous, because we were told “meet at 11.00 and we’ll head off from there” and I always end up in this edge of the seat, we’re about to leave, spot for approximately 40 minutes whilst everyone gets organised. Except I never sit, because I’m lead to believe we are popping in to make sure we have a head count before we go.
We were 10 minutes late. I really tried to be later, but it’s pointless. I can’t do it. Chippie fell asleep in the car, so figuted the “hi, were here, where are we headed” and a quick wee stop would make it ok to leave him in there. Brother-in-law making his breaky. At least he was dressed. And mostly organised.
So we wait for the others to arrive. And wait. And wait. And wait. Whilst we discuss the big, new, water park we’re going to . Grumpy and I had discussed it on the way over (yes, I think the seven options and “we’ll do that then” was eventually narrowed down to one) including the time we’d be likely to arrive, and the potential cost. It was a no brainer for me. By the time we got there, the kids were gonna be starving, cos it’d be past their lunchtime, and it was gonna be an expensive day out.
So, after half an hour of waiting, and several non-answered phone calls (after having received a “mum isn’t coming, now, but we’re on our way, we’re just filling up the car with petrol”) the decision to drive over to Mums was made. Because, I dunno about you, but if they’ve rung to say their on their way, heading off in their direction is a good idea.
Thankfully, however, I had to eat my words as there they were, waiting for us and “what took you so long”. Am dubious about the “we’re on our way” phone call and whether that was actually said.
Still, I struggle to comprehend how hard it is for everyone to misinterpret “we’ll meet at X at 11.00am. I know, wihtout a doubt, that some people are really proficient at this kind of misinterpretation. I’m really trying to come to terms with it and accept it. Just, sometimes, I forget.
So off we go, Chippie still alseep, waking up ten minuted before our destination. We’re directed to a car park, well after 12.30 by this stage, as far away from the entrance as possible. Grumpy and I unload the massive swimming bag, sunscreen, water bottles