With the advent of sun, rather like snow in Texas, the whole of England grinds to a standstill. That is, once they reach the beach!
I was heading off to Broadstairs yesterday to complete probate on my mother’s estate, amidst other bits of business. As I drew closer to the coast the train grew dangerously full with the baguette and rubber ring crowd. I overheard one girl say after the third “on-sea” stop,
“Why are there so many beaches in a row?”
Her friend hazarded a guess,
“They’re not in a row, it’s just how the train goes…”
I met my brother and his sons, they’re going to feature here for a while, the summer holidays are on and he has them for 19 days this month!
They had been sitting in a car in traffic for over two hours and were stir crazy, ready for the beach and the sea. I know, I had boys… and girls. Vincent was hungry so guess who won out?
“Life’s a beach,” I thought and grinned at the boys who were locked in a screaming, wrestling match on the banquette seating in the cafe where they didn’t want to be. I got up and left, embarrassed. They followed, their light at the end of a tunnel leading to sand. Flanked by rowdy boys, I wondered how I could convey to the proprietor I was not their Mum,
“Who wants an ice cream?” I asked as we passed the soft serve.
“Meeeee…” they chorused, “you really are the bestest Auntie in the whole wide world!”
Aaahh!!
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