Patsy
28-03-2005, 04:23 PM
then it all went t**s up. :wallbash:
You know what I mean? You or someone else decide to do something nice and it doesn't quite work out.
Take today for example. I said we should all go out for the day because I personally have had no air or exercise for 2 days because I've been glued to SO.
Anyway, Mr P decided we would go to Whitstable and Herne Bay for lunch (a good hour's journey down the M2) and a kick about for the boys on the beach. Not a bad day, bright and sunny but cold. Had some cockles in Whitstable and walked around looking for somewhere to eat. Of course, because we set off so late everywhere was packed, or the empty places were extortionate.
Toddled off to Herne Bay, nowhere to park. I need a wee and the kids are starving. Mr P is getting more and more stressed driving round finding somewhere to park. Finally find somewhere up a little side road. Great. Walk along the front trying to find somewhere to wee. I spot a cafe and think kill 2 birds with 1 stone. We go in, I wet my whistle, come out and they've legged it outside. Felt it was a bit "royston veysey". Carried on down the road, found another restaurant, went in there, waited 20 minutes to order, Tom realises he left his football in the first cafe. Food finally arrives, not bad, bill comes, Mr P is analysing it and I snatch it away because I'm freezing cold due to the permanently open door and just want to get out of there. I pay the bill, we walk out and Mr P starts saying that he thinks we've been overcharged, but refuses to go back and dispute the bill because it's owned by a large mediterranean type and doesn't fancy his chances. We argue back and forth back along the front, go in and get Tom's ball back (the high point of the day), they go onto the beach, Mr P throws the ball and it goes straight into the sea as the tide is right up. Marvellous, I go made, Jack has to wade in and get it, puts his socks and shoes back on and in the meantime finds a syrringe. Game over, back to the car.
All except Mr P fall asleep in the car for the hour's journey home. Get back and there's s0d all on telly, so here I am, relaying my story to my new inmates.
Who's next?
You know what I mean? You or someone else decide to do something nice and it doesn't quite work out.
Take today for example. I said we should all go out for the day because I personally have had no air or exercise for 2 days because I've been glued to SO.
Anyway, Mr P decided we would go to Whitstable and Herne Bay for lunch (a good hour's journey down the M2) and a kick about for the boys on the beach. Not a bad day, bright and sunny but cold. Had some cockles in Whitstable and walked around looking for somewhere to eat. Of course, because we set off so late everywhere was packed, or the empty places were extortionate.
Toddled off to Herne Bay, nowhere to park. I need a wee and the kids are starving. Mr P is getting more and more stressed driving round finding somewhere to park. Finally find somewhere up a little side road. Great. Walk along the front trying to find somewhere to wee. I spot a cafe and think kill 2 birds with 1 stone. We go in, I wet my whistle, come out and they've legged it outside. Felt it was a bit "royston veysey". Carried on down the road, found another restaurant, went in there, waited 20 minutes to order, Tom realises he left his football in the first cafe. Food finally arrives, not bad, bill comes, Mr P is analysing it and I snatch it away because I'm freezing cold due to the permanently open door and just want to get out of there. I pay the bill, we walk out and Mr P starts saying that he thinks we've been overcharged, but refuses to go back and dispute the bill because it's owned by a large mediterranean type and doesn't fancy his chances. We argue back and forth back along the front, go in and get Tom's ball back (the high point of the day), they go onto the beach, Mr P throws the ball and it goes straight into the sea as the tide is right up. Marvellous, I go made, Jack has to wade in and get it, puts his socks and shoes back on and in the meantime finds a syrringe. Game over, back to the car.
All except Mr P fall asleep in the car for the hour's journey home. Get back and there's s0d all on telly, so here I am, relaying my story to my new inmates.
Who's next?