It is with some trepidation 'THE CAMPING TRIP' looms. We are going with 4 lovely families and I am sure it will be lots of fun (non-sarcastic).
However, as with any activity involving grown-ups with mortgages, their children and travel there are ISSUES. What we say and what we are thinking are generally poles apart.
Said: The campsite looks nice B, thanks for booking it. How much do we owe you.
Think: What the fuck is that. A lake in the middle of the campsite. A busy road to the left. So, not only do I have be on constant guard in case the children are abducted by some predatory paeophile; there is a huge likelihood they will be either be drowned or run over by the end of the weekend. Fucking brilliant.
Said: So, anything your kids DON'T eat?
Think: Please GOD will they eat the food prepared by other parents and pretend they like homemade as much as shop-bought. Please, if (when) we do visit a pub, will they behave as though having lemonade and crisps is a HUGE treat reserved for birthdays and holidays only.
Said: Hope the weather is good.
Think: It's bloody Norfolk in May - it will either be pissing down in which case we're out of there faster than you can say M11; or, by some miracle, it might be sunny, therefore too hot for the children to sleep in the tents. They'll all be crotchety and fighty and tearful the next day and I'll have to start on the gin EARLY in order not to argue with husband.
Said: How much booze are you taking? Oh, just enough for perhaps a G&T in the afternoon, if it's sunny; couple of glasses of wine with dinner; something for round the campfire later.. what about you two?
Think: Holy shit, what if we run out of wine. Shall have to have stash of red wine in the tent as may need to get totally rat-arsed before sleeping on the ground. Then all our friends will know we drink MUCH more than them. Oh dear.
I'll let you know how it goes.