Thursday 9th April
I am writing this in that state of exhaustion where you know you should go to bed but somehow even doing that requires too much energy. Simon has already slithered off to bed but he is excused given he has spent all evening loading up the car, trailer and pod on top of the car with all the camping paraphernalia required for 8 people to set off for the wilds. It's at this stage of the holiday that we always look at each other and swear that we are never, ever doing this again. At this point sensing the parental disillusion with recreating a "Five go camping' adventure, the children generally settle into a steady bleat of 'Can't we go to Fiji like normal families?"
We have a family of three from the Uk staying at present who have nobly agreed to join us on this particular jaunt and we are also joining another family of five who are great friends from Sydney. Just to give you an idea of what we have assembled so far it includes, 2 campbeds, 6 inflatable sleeping mats, 8 sleeping bags and 3 tents ranging from a six man Taj Mahal effort to a two man tent where if you weren't on intimate terms with your sleeping partner when you crawled in, you certainly will be when you crawl out. Add in lamps, cooking equipment, cutlery, crockery, a canoe, boogie boards to float down the river on, wetsuits to fit all shapes and sizes, fishing kit, rain coats, fleeces and I haven't even started on the food side of it. The car is bulging already and the hallway is filled with lumpy bags. Past experience has also taught me that the Drama Queens will emerge from their rooms at the last moment holding large supplemental bags containing all the essentials to survive a week with the family and these supplemental bags will necessitate the complete repacking of the car and be the direct cause of Simon and I not speaking for the first three hours of the holiday. Drama Queen No.1 has already packed six books in gloomy anticipation of there being nothing else to do, eg no other teenagers within a six mile radius. Such is her desperation she even contemplated taking her German textbook.
My stress levels were not helped when I staggered in from school this afternoon to find Drama Queen no. 1 had spent the first day of her holidays dying random portions of her hair, a violent magenta colour. My first reaction was hysteria and the desire to reach for shampoo and start on the 17 washes that she promises are all it requires for her hair to return to its original blonde. I have now calmed down and reflected on the fact that I have always said I don't mind what she does with her hair so long as it is back to normal for school, however I have threatened a radical hair cut if we still have pink tinges in three weeks and I don't dare venture up to the girls' bathroom to see what has happened to the white towels.
Happy Easter and think of us in our tents, hopefully we will all come back speaking, I have high hopes that the vast amount of alcohol packed will help in this goal.
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