January 8th 2016

 When I woke up, I was confronted by a focused cluster of family members at the dining table. What was happening? Well it so happened that Teddy had invented a card game of medieval-styled sorcery and James was assisting him with realising the vision by cutting up index cards and suggesting only a couple of small play elements to help it along.

But there were bigger fish to fry - cabin fever! After my debilitating state the day before, I was eager to finally leave the house and with the sun finally shining I announced that I was going to do a little clothes shopping for work in the upcoming term. Now those who know me will stand aghast at the revelation of me volunteering to shop. I feel the fluorescent lights as if they burn down upon me like a million suns; the chatter of fellow shoppers is like sudden, trident tinnitus; comfortable shoes immediately weigh me down as if spiked through the toe and my demeanour meets that physical assault as you might expect. I am not a fun shopping pal.

I was already meeting up with a friend from uni for lunch, so I decided to deal with King St first. I left the big camera at home so all subsequent images are courtesy of the phone.



I proudly photographed my haul (a dress and a top) from a single shop and within fifteen minutes of me disembarking from the bus. This was huge for me.


Lunch was (of course) wonderful and my friend and I chatted away for an hour or so - basically until we couldn't escape it any more. She, off to shop for evening dresses and me off to battle the city Myer store. Hardly the domain for the faint-hearted shopper, but I was feeling emboldened by this lunchtime physical and social sustenance.

Meanwhile I contacted James and asked what he was up to with the children. Turns out they were heading in to the city to purchase sports shoes for Harriet so that they could kill two birds with one stone - the acquisition of sports shoes for school as well as covered shoes for Luna Park.

Apparently Harriet moved from a size 6 to a size 8. Yes. You read that correctly. The girl is now 156cms. She's 10. James can't tell whose clothes are whose when he's putting away the washing. Anyway.













Yes, Luna Park! The children were thrilled, although it's fair to say that James sounded decidedly less thrilled. At any rate after battling the city and purchasing the requisite afternoon snacks, I caught the train in to meet them at LP.

Despite the condition for going out being that they both agree on the rides to go on and this essentially falling apart once they discussed the first ride, spirits were buoyed by food, the acquisition of an annual pass card that looks and feels like a drivers licence and the opportunity to split up with the arrival of another parent.

I escorted Ted on to the Wild Mouse where he happily rode by himself with gusto and whoops of enjoyment, rocketing around the treacherously natural, wooden track of the rollercoaster.

 Obviously a terrible photo. But to prove that he enjoyed himself, here it is.


However it was not to last. Beautiful weather, manageable crowds, full stomachs and both parents on holidays couldn't support the physical death machine that Ted likes to occasionally jump on and ride for all it's worth. While in Coney Island he tried to stand on some ride (after being specifically told not to do that by the supervising employee), fell over and cut open his lip nicely. A big fat lip right in the centre was accompanied by much crying. And crying. And sadness. And did I mention the crying?


















Poor tired poppet was carried as long as humanly possible by Papa Jimbo.  We limped our way to the train station where we managed to scrape the family back home. Dinner was reheated leftovers. Thank goodness.

Another day done and dusted!