Our walk was memorable for all the wrong reasons. We found ourselves on a ridge in the middle of nowhere, on the most perfect sunny, frosty, cloudless Winter's day, as Jasmine and Felix both screamed their heads off, at such volume I thought my brain would burst. True to form, Jasmine refused to walk and was wriggling for Britain - wouldn't go on shoulders properly, wouldn't do piggy back properly - so I ended up carrying her in my arms whilst bf wrestled with the 'instructions' (our luxury accommodation being too tight or stupid or both to provide us with an actual map which found us relying instead on 4 sides of typed A4 rich in mundane content about local history but somewhat lacking in useful information to tell us where to turn) TTOS (the rucksack containing the 'Ten Tonnes Of Shit' you need to carry around with you, went up to 'Twenty' after Felix was born) and Felix (still screaming).
On we ploughed - tension knots already well and truly formed, now warping and twisting further - totally incapable of enjoying the perfect weather and on the brink of a furious argument. We just looked at each other and thankfully both burst out laughing. The kids screamed on. Trying anything and everything, we found some manky kiddy crisps in the TTOS - popped one in Jasmine's mouth and suddenly she just stopped. Popped one in Felix' mouth and suddenly he fell asleep.
Utter calm descended, the tension ebbed away. Felix slept and we fed Jasmine crisps all the way home. Enjoyable walk after all.
Two words spring to mind: 'jail' and 'bait'
Jambeans and daddy - before the walk
Squealycops - also before the walk - little did we know what they had planned for us
What could be more perfect?
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