It’s now a tradition that to celebrate our kids’ birthdays we have a water fight in the back garden of the house in Dartmouth where we stay. Last year I managed to stay well out of it, but this year I got totally soaked from head to foot, whilst children frolicked around me and then sprayed me with icy cold water.
Apart from exhibiting the early signs of hypothermia, our girls were exemplary throughout, not complaining when they got squirted and running around quite happily. I was suffering from a combination of a hangover (last night the wife and I went to the Beer and Cider Festival and drank mead), some terrible coffee and the aftereffects of my drawn out journey to Canada. So after I’d done enough to be polite, I fell asleep in a garden chair about 4pm and woke later, pleasantly surprised not to find myself resoaked.
The only downside was that when bedtime came, because of fatigue Destroyer had lost all emotional control and was a raging ball of tantrum energy, clawing at her mother and weeping until I carried her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. At least she and her sister then fell asleep in five minutes. Of course, I fell asleep as well, but I guess I needed the extra half hour of shut eye.