This morning I came up with the inspired idea that we visit Priory Park Farm with the children. My sister agreed, but suggested we postpone the trip until the afternoon as the day would warm up to a balmy 24 degrees.
Upon arrival at the farm, the virtually wrought-iron ten-ton door of the family car closed on my little nephew's foot as my sister was extricating him from the baby seat. Amid the shrieking, panic and general horror I'm sad to say the unworthy thought THANK GOD I DIDN'T DO IT did sneak into my head.
After we had established that the foot was not broken, we bought tickets and set out upon the farm walk. Interestingly, 24 degrees in the sunshine when pushing a pram laden with a toddler and his accoutrements up a steep & grassy gradient generates an apparent temperature closer to 45 degrees celsius.
There were many fascinating (to children) features along the route, and we stopped to sample all of them. My niece ran off to join a screaming gaggle of children running back and forth through a sprinkler, and was next spied standing guiltily over the fallen body of a tiny girl who'd come off second best in a collision.
The injured toddler's mother swooped in to the rescue, dabbing at her hysterical child's bloodied mouth as we did our best to appear unconnected to the renegade and her doings. We deemed it best to leave after this incident.
Back at the house, we had fun practicing tennis in the garden with a children's set provided by my sister. For children's rackets, they packed a hefty wallop as my nephew discovered when his sister delivered a mighty forehand to the side of his head as he crawled into the path of her swing. Which leads me to think that childhood is in fact survivable only by sheer luck.
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