WE’RE ending that tricky fourth week of school holidays. The family holiday is over, the playschemes have moved on and video games have been played to their conclusions.
The weather is unpredictable and the inmates are restless and bored. How do we all keep our sanity?
In an effort to get some daily fresh air and much-needed exercise, we’ve started running. . . I know, it sounds bonkers.
But this isn’t running in some hearty, healthy, all-together- Swiss Family Robinson-type way. No, this is 20 minutes up at the Racecourse, either me and one of the boys, or Bloke and one of the boys.
And when I say running, it’s more like they run, and we stumble, half-jog, walk and collapse. Frankly, it’s been a bit embarrassing. The boys skip round our circuit barely breaking sweat. Meanwhile, I’m left hobbling behind, wheezing and purple-faced. After two days my thigh muscles felt they’d become detached from my legs and I couldn’t climb out of bed.
Needless to say, the kids quite like this daily ritual humiliation of their parents and we can’t face being the ones to give up first. Oh God, please make the aching stop soon. . .