Mummy and Daddy took me on holiday to a place called Suh-muuur-set a few weeks ago. We went to a new little house that I guess they bought or something, I don't really know how these things work. Personally, I think if they were going to go buy a new house then they could have chosen a bigger one cos there wasn't really enough room for all of my toys. I couldn't go outside very much because there wasn't really a garden, it was just a little courtyard sort of area. I kept trying to escape the new house so that I could explore but Mummy is such a worry-wort, she just wouldn't leave me alone. There were so many things for her to worry about, like for example that I wanted to put all of the little pebbles from the path into my mouth (doesn't she understand how important it is to taste pebbles? How else will I know what they are? I'm not exactly going to swallow them or anything!) Then of course there were the recycling bins, I kept trying to empty them because they were just SO messy, I was going to put everything back tidy tidy once I'd finished, but Mummy didn't like that very much, she seemed to think they were fine just as they were. Spoilsport. Mummy also didn't like the thorny branches that were creeping down from the green bit to around the level of my exploring fingers. Again, why the concern? How will I know what thorns are if I can't actually touch them? I think Mummy really just needs to chill.
But I think her real problem with me going outside was that their new house had a ginormous big hot bath outside. I've never seen anything like it before but it was AH-MAY-ZING! It had a big solid cover on top of it (great for crawling on when Mummy-worry-wort isn't looking!) Once she managed to grab me, Mummy made me put on my water wings to go into this bath, I thought that was very strange as I don't usually wear water wings in my bath; I kept trying to pull them off because they were wholly dissatisfactory. Mummy and I argued about that for quite some time (water wings off, water wings on, water wings off...well you get the idea. Unfortunately Mummy won in the end, I think she gets her stubbornness from me) I was very disappointed when Mummy made me put on a special swim nappy too, that was a bit of a bummer cos there's nothing more refreshing than having a nice wee in my bath. I do it every night, it's ever so refreshing and it makes me giggle. Weeing in a nappy isn't nearly so much fun.
Anyway, Mummy finally let me get into this bath and WOW! The bath was so big, that I actually had to go up four steps to get into it and then I realised that it was big enough to hold Mummy, Daddy, George AND me - all at once, all together! My new bath even had seats in it so we could all sit comfortably and the absolute BEST part of all was that Big Bro fiddled with some buttons and suddenly, my bath was full of bubbles! It was very noisy, but I loved it - I wanted to stay in my new bath forever and ever. I jumped and I splashed and I learned to float (on my tummy and my back) and I kicked Daddy in his soft squishy bits (quite a lot) and I laughed and I laughed.
Then, as it was starting to get dark, Mummy broke the bad news. "It's time to get out of the hot tub now baby, you've been in here long enough." With that, I broke into a kicking, shrieking wail, "NNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! I LOVE MY BIG BATH!!!!!!!! I WANT TO STAY IN MY BIG BATH FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER!!!!!! MUMMY NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
Hrmph. As usual, Mummy didn't listen to my well phrased protests. I tried holding my breath, I tried ducking under the water where Mummy couldn't get me and I even tried kicking Daddy just in case that might help. Eventually though, I realised the warm bubbly bath was making me feel ever so tired and I just couldn't stay awake any longer so I finally agreed to wrap my damp little arms around Mummy's neck as she carried me inside to find a big warm towel.
"It's the best big bath ever in the world Mummy," I whispered to her. "Thank you for letting me play in it."
"Night night baby, I love you..." Mummy said.
The next day, Mummy decided we were going to go somewhere she thought would be very special, she kept going on about it and was clearly excited. I thought it must be good for Mummy to talk about it so much and as we drove in the car, I allowed myself to dream. Would there be slides? Tractors? Water? Maybe even Timmy would be there?
So I'm sure you can imagine how disappointed I was when we finally arrived. What on earth is so special about lots of crumbly rocks, falling down walls and a place that didn't even have a roof? It was B-Oh-Ring and I made QUITE sure that Mummy and Daddy knew just how disappointed I was to be there. I mean seriously, who cares about some King called Arthur? And why does it matter where he's buried? He's not exactly the king now, so what difference does it make? Don't start telling me about round tables or knights or magic wizards Mummy, it's a big square in the ground that has a sign stuck in it. I'm sure there are FAR more interesting things to take photos of. Like me, for example. Are you honestly telling me that taking a photo of a square in the ground is better than paying attention to me? Mummy? Mummy? MUMMY?
|King Arthur's Grave|
I think I'm being ignored.
You just can't get the staff these days.
|The Holy Thorn|
The one and only redeeming point of the day was when Big Brother and Daddy started doing big swings as we walked through the grassy bit. It did at least temporarily stop the screeching and allowed me to regain the use of my legs (I had been collapsing to my knees in sheer exhaustion every few minutes, shouting does take it out of one so!) I guess the part where Mummy had a big bird on her arm, just like in Harry Potter was ok, but the big bird was so touchy! I mean I only let out one tiny little screech, there really was no reason for it to try and fly off Mummy's arm screeching itself. I think big birds just need to relax.
|One! Two! Threeeeeeeee!|
In summary, as far as I'm concerned, all of you can scratch Glastonbury Abbey off your list of places to visit, I don't care if it's important in British Christian History (as Mummy tried to explain) and I don't care if it has a prickly tree or a hole in the ground with an important dead guy in it and I also don't care if it's one thousand years old, it's stupid. in my two-year-old opinion, Glastonbury Abbey has nothing whatsoever to recommend it. So there.
Thankfully, after a rocky start, our holiday started to look up by Day Two...come back soon and I'll tell you all about it!