We went for a family swim this evening, pitched on down to Eastbourne to the pool with the wave machine for a wash-away-the-week dip. For some of us it could possibly have been the only-wash-of-the-week dip, but let's not dwell on the detail.
I decided, with the foresight I usually lack, to take one of the hugely overpriced inflatables that we impulse bought at Camber Sands the other week. We turned down the giant inflatable duck (son's choice) and the enormous peacock (daughter's), on the basis that they wouldn't be allowed in, and decided on the giant inflatable ring with the giant specks of gold glitter (ahem..). I was delighted that I had remembered to take a toy with us, and thus stop the inevitable demands for new purchases once we arrived. Go me!
This is it. Fabulous. I know, right?
Got through the changing rooms, reassembled, only to find that daughter had forgotten her swimsuit. Then had to make our way back to reception to buy her a new one (or face the wrath of son if we attempted to leave without swimming) and got mugged for £38!!! 38 feckin quid!!! Seriously!!! Anyway, we moved on, on the basis that this is now her swimsuit for the next 25 years.
Feeling pretty smug floating around in my glittery doughnut, much to the envy of, literally, every other pool user. Even the lifeguards are giving me side eye, such is it's majestic, sparkly wonder. 20 minutes in though, and suddenly there's an announcement, "the pool is now closing for 15 minutes whilst we prepare for the Wave Rave pool party". Wait, what?
Am now torn between ire at being kicked out of the pool, and the absolute imperative of attending the Wave Rave, whatever the heckin heck that was. So out we got, and there we stood for 15 soggy minutes whilst a DJ set up (the wave rave is basically top 40 pool party) and the lifeguards filled the pool with, wait for it, an Argos truckload of feckin inflatables. I'm standing there with my sparkly doughnut feeling, well, let's just call it an element of mild chagrin. The pool is now full of giant floating bananas, orange slices, watermelon chunks and, somewhat incongruously, sharks. It's like a mash up of a tropical Love Island, a cocktail and a horror movie, and now small children are flinging themselves into the pool into a feeding frenzy (shark ref) to get to the best ones. But what do i care? Let them. My sparkly doughnut far outsparkles every other inflatable in the joint. Possibly in the whole of East Sussex.
Eventually daughter's blood sugars signal that it's time to leave and so we head off into the showers, where we find a woman with a small girl, and the woman is shaving her legs. In the public shower. Not cubicles mind you, a full on open public shower. Now I'm as open minded as the next very open minded person but really! The absolute slatternliness of the woman! So I gave her one of my looks. Daughter also gave her one of her looks, which are becoming arguably equal to some of mine, and we circled round each other; us at the decent, civilised end of the showers and her, and her disposable Bic, at the other.
We then popped into town for a Nandos, because Friday, and made excessively fabulous "Can you hear the drums for Nandos" pun and was so delighted with it, husband and I sung it all the way to our table. Children attempted to disown us and asked for a different table, but they didn't really mean it. They're used to us now. Ate much good food, kids went for extra mild, husband went for hot, and I stuffed multiple vegetarian side dishes which was basically my 5 a day, in one glorious spicy hit.
Happy and full, we headed home across the south downs, with the sun setting gloriously over Beachy Head, with the whole family singing along loudly to Bohemian Rhapsody on full volume, which is, as we all know, the only way to sing it.
Have a great weekend.