Weather warming up ever so slightly. Nothing like it was the week before we left. Or the day before.
Some suggestion made over breaky (fruit for kids again this morning, their own selection) about going swimming. Oh, dear. Mummy forgot her bathers.
Which haven’t fit since about week 7.5 of my latest pregancy and are unlikely to provide adquate boob coverage at the present moment. Besides, thighs are looking somewhat like mottled blanc mange.
Luckily my children have to love me unconditionally. But its just not fair on the rest of the seeing population. Or the unseeing for that matter. They’re pretty bad.
Thwart the idea and we head off to the zoo instead. Via Train Station of a million stairs and the ferry. Where I am again forced to feed Chippie in howling winds. Discreetly. Ish. It’s getting too hard. And the Discreetness Care Factor is slipping.
Look at some animals with interest (Grumpy and I) and wander around saying “I”m bored” and whinging a lot (the kids).
We check out the toilets, a water fountain, hop on the sky rail thing, go to the bottom and back up, look at some more animals, suggest some more animals to look at, locate a sign and have Godzilla yell “Here it is!”
Wow, great reading, I think.
“The cafe. It’s here!”
So, we sit and eat for an hour, which I believe is the longest we did anything at the zoo.
Stop and feed Chippie on a bench – screw discreetness – because he decided that eating when the rest of the family did was not really on.
Work our way down and out of the zoo, just missing a ferry and hanging around for half an hour waiting for the next one. Five minutes before its arrival, Godzilla needed to go to the toilet, which was located somewhere near the top entrance of the zoo, some 500 kilometers away.
I make him wait. If my pelvic floor can hold it in, surely his can too.
Head back to the hotel. Dinner, bath and back out again to view the city at night up Centrepoint Tower, where Chippied decided screaming in a confined space to avoid sleep was the answer to his troubles.