My wife slept with the children in a tent while I had a bed to myself. I passed out and only woke at five, harassed by a fly that had also slept until the sunlight streamed through the window. Luckily I could fall back asleep long enough to have a bad dream about tea and then wake up in time for breakfast.
Yesterday I was exhausted and good for nothing, but today I managed to be a bit more useful, minding the kids in the river for a while, and going out to fetch dreadful coffee from Tim Hortons. The girls ricocheted between playing happily and bursting into tears, including during an ill-advised running race where they tried to push each other over and then complained when they fell.
In early evening, we packed up the tent, emptied the cottage and drove to our friend’s father’s place, a beautiful house by a lake, for dinner. The kids were mostly well behaved (although children rioting near antiques always stresses me out) then after dinner, as the sun began to set, we drove back to Montreal.
This was a fun drive. We stopped at a gas station where some youths were alternating between sucking each others faces and smoking cigarettes. We drove through Montreal traffic as fast as we could. We went through a newly resurfaced section of freeway that hadn’t been signposted as such, spraying gravel around. And five minutes from home both our kids fell asleep, which meant instead of bedtime stories I just had to carry them from car to bed and lay them down.
And now, after 36 hours without Internet, I lay myself down to rest.