When my daughter suggested we go for a picnic, just the two of us, I thought it was a really sweet idea. She’s only seven and as my son was out at a friend’s house, it left us girlies alone to do something … well girly. She retrieved and packed up the picnic bag with a healthy lunch consisting of a sandwich for her (I’d already eaten – oops) two bars of chocolate and two cans of coke. Well I never claimed to be Mother of the Year!
The lake was fairly busy which gave just the right atmosphere, with the temperature reaching the mid twenties it really felt like summer had arrived early. My little girl did some colouring and I took turns in reading my book and watching the world go by. I taught her to make those little caterpillar daisy chains and she ran around me in circles … I don’t know why but it seemed necessary at the time.
After a couple of hours of chilling in the sunshine a family set up about twenty feet away. Now I am one for my personal space so anything closer than 100 yards is just too close. And so started the screaming, shouting and roly polies down the hill beside us. On close inspection of what we were doing they decided that daisy chains were the order of the day for them too. I try not to get irritated by those little things but when the mother screamed out ‘Chardonnay, get back ere’ I knew our picnic was over.
Don’t get me wrong – I’d happily have a lovely cool glass of the stuff, but there are really some things you just shouldn’t name your children.