Yesterday we decided to take the children to mini-Europe because that’s the kind of thing you end up doing when you have children. Don’t sneer.
We didn’t set out until 4.15 because Michael woke up late from his nap and the Princess didn’t want to go and we had to pack snacks and things were against us. The traffic was brutal and we limped across town very slowly, navigating our way to this distant location. Daniel and Michael kept demanding food and then chucking it into the boot and dropping things on the floor and screaming until they were retrieved. The Princess was too warm and had to take off her coat and couldn’t. We got lost. We had a higher proportion of squealing to a halt and irate parents leaning into the back seat than is usually a feature of our lives.
We finally arrived about 4.45. Last admissions were at 5. There was some kind of book fair on. There was no parking. We found parking. Admission was only via a number of flights of steps or a long detour (an ideal feature for an attraction seeking to entice small children). The clock was ticking. We took the steps. We harried the boys and herself up. We arrived at 5.05 to find, inevitably, that the bloody thing had closed.
We spent some time at the Europe Village which was utterly hideous and boasted a number of fast food outlets, a big yoke with slides and ropes and a merry-go-round. They all had a go on the merry-go-round. Daniel was scared. Mr. Waffle took Daniel off. The Princess instantly wanted to go to the toilet. I took her into the Quick with a screaming Michael protesting vigourously. We went back to the play area. The Princess went into meltdown, screaming hysterically because I would not let her blow up a balloon she found on the ground. Daniel got hit on the head by a bigger child swinging on a pole. Michael stuck his tongue out at a larger child with a bicycle, the combatants were separated with injury to dignity only.
We went home, back up the steps, everyone howling, Princess demanding to be carried, boys risking death throwing themselves down the flights of concrete steps, hauling the buggy behind us. Everyone into the car; drove home (another 45 minutes) with everyone wailing to various degrees. Made dinner. Boys wouldn’t touch it. Put them to bed in a sulk (everyone).
How was your Saturday?
Incidentally, this afternoon, we all went for a walk in the woods and it was fabulous. The Princess hunted mushrooms, the boys played with their footballs, the weather was wonderful and they all ate their dinner when we got home. Lovely, lovely, lovely.
cha0tic says
Compare and contrast Sounds like things get better as they get older.
Charlotte says
Hideous and brutal. Oh yes, you used both those words. I’m sorry Ms Waffle. Maybe one day you will laugh.
Kara says
I think you win the prize for frustrating activities on Saturday. And I hope you had a nice glass of wine after putting them all to bed. (A glass of wine after dealing with all the whine?)
But Sunday sounds very nice. Happily, my almost-two-year-old has also been on a streak of eating her dinner rather than throwing the whole thing on the floor, so that is one thing our Sunday had in common.
Kara
BroLo says
Well, the website says that you must see it. So at least you have that out of the way.