One of the things that has been making this holiday marginally more challenging than it needs to be is The Lurgy. BigBear came down with Unidentified Lurgy last weekend, and it has gradually migrated around his throat, sinuses, ears and head. The back of this throat currently looks like something that has just come from the butcher's block, and apparently his ears are "crunchy" (something I am unable to offer independent verification of). I've meanwhile been suffering from a slightly different, milder, more cold-like bleugh.
This morning started with a lemsip for me, which improved the morning immensely, and a lie-in for BigBear while me and LittleBear tanked up on melon (him) and coffee (me) for breakfast. OK, admittedly I also had pain au raisin, croissant and pain au chocolate, but my waistline would rather you didn't mention that.
We then resumed our holiday routine - the morning on the beach, followed by lunch, some quiet story and play time in our rooms during the hottest part of the day, then late afternoon by the pool. And in between stories and pool time, my two bears watched an episode of "Dinosaur Planet" on Youtube. So I took the opportunity to settle down on one of the many vacant pool loungers, with my book. Ahhhhh.....
Then BigBear brought LittleBear down to play, fetched me a glass of beer, and we had a very peaceful afternoon, playing, splashing and generally relaxing. I dipped into my book from time to time, dipped into the pool with LittleBear, drank beer, and watched my LittleBear be completely uninhibited in the pool. I particularly enjoyed the following exchange:
Small Boy: I've got a Superman swimming costume!
Small Boy: What's your name?
LB: <gives real name>
Small Boy: How old are you?
LB: Four <holding up four fingers to remove all doubt>
Small Boy: I'm four too! Do you know what my name is?
LB: No
Small Boy: I'm Captain Phantom!
LB: ... <confused>
Parent: His name's Milan
Small Boy: Don't call me Milan! I'm Captain Phantom!
Parent: Yes dear, but his name's really Milan
And despite my observations yesterday about some parents being weird or shit, most of them are delightful. There was the nice German man who "rahhhed" an inflatable crocodile repeatedly for LittleBear (who "rahhhed" back even more ferociously). And the lovely French man who was amused and delightfully apologetic to have his pronunciation of LittleBear's name corrected. LittleBear didn't take to having a rolled "r" in his name... And the kind Spanish chap who played throwing and catching with his own boys and mine. And BigBear found a sun lounger in the shade (a shade lounger?) and played with LittleBear, and my afternoon became increasingly mellow. Which definitely, absolutely, completely had nothing to do with drinking beer. No connection at all. Honest.
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