Note the (Clearly handed to me by reasonably more fashionable Mum) polo neck covering.... I am selfie ready, people.
I did a parenting.
Well, I say parenting.... more horrendously inappropriate and not-thought through decision making fest. Wine induced, obviously. And I'm paying for it now, literally and metaphorically.
I'm taking Small to Disneyland Paris for Easter. Clearly thought this one through. Mum took me as a 6ish year old when pregnant with the Sibling as a surprise. Other than nostalgic memory lane-ing and a fuck ton of inflation, I presume it'll be the same.... pretty, princessy, cotton wool and squealing Angries that don't belong to you so you can't not-parent them (so, effectively that's just scowl at their mad face and revoke all teenage privileges in advance).
I mean, it could have been worse.
I couldn't book the Shit-but-great Turkish hotel from 2017 this far in advance.... and had fingerlust.
-Alas, these days meaning nothing more but thumbing the CSV code with great (and RSI inducing) flourish.
I bought a calendar, complete with achievement stickers. I opted out of gold stars, but that's an entire other blog post....
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