WALKSBOATSANDICECREAM

Sunday.

A day usually associated for family time, long country walks and a satisfying smell of a chicken roasting that fills the air, setting our taste buds tingling from anticipation, which leads to the repeated question of ‘Is dinner ready yet?’

What could be more peaceful and bring a feeling of content sitting in the fresh air, sun shining, Luka-James attempting to be the next Joe Root, Parker sulking at the wait of dinner and watching Snow White, water the flowers, boarder line drowning them with intent…

A delicious gammon and chicken roast with all the trimmings finds its way to the table, a trio of satisfied tiny bellies. We rounded the troops up and set off on a promising 3 mile adventure across the country fields to reach our final destination, ice creams. Whilst we take in the views of the cheerfully colourful narrowboats, resting upon the canal after a busy Sunday of punters.

Bliss.

Or so it seemed…

The 1.5 mile journey there resulted into one power walking mother pushing a daughter who was certain she would break free of the trike on the narrowest footpath, we may as well walked on the road. Pointing at every farm animal in sight which developed into making her break free attempts even more tempting, than sipping the ice cold gin i was fantasising over in my mind, making the experience ever so slightly bearable. A Father balancing an iPad on the hood of a Quinny, like his life depended on it because naturally watching England play in the finals, was a life or death situation. However Parker who was full of delight pointing at every zooming car that passed us, couldn’t have been more content with our outing. Luka and Nana Bev was partners in crime, making a tribe of sloths look Olympians.

Upon reaching the top of a torturous hill climb, slightly sticky and sweaty. I come across a phone laying on the grass verge. Strange. Why would a phone be laying on a country path… pretty much in the middle of nowhere residential.

After a quick phone call to the owners wife. A owner who was drunk, made his way home on a bike after a afternoon piss up, without realising the phone was missing… happened to be married to the Ice cream lady!

RESULT BEKSIE!!

A clear sign this walk was worth the effort, a sign it was meant to be.

A kind gesture of returning the phone to its rightful owner, resulted into free icecream and drinks all round. Small act of kindness goes rewarded and all that…

As the sun started to set, greeting us with a sky of pretty orange and pink hues, narrowboats rainbow of colours glow invitingly against the warm summers sun, sparkles hit the ripples of the canal. As we sat with ice cream and sprinkles, feeling slightly rewarded from walking such distance with 3 irritable kids and nobody losing their shit with one another, Luka-james asks for a photo near a sign of the museum. Hesitantly taking my phone out and took the photo I urged him along for the anticipated walk home…

Of course he had to cover the C, making my inbox influx with hilarious comments at the unfortunate mishap of a photo.

At this point, Livy has fully lost her cool and throwing a whooping tantrum, her usual snowy white skin is now red with rage, her screeching scratchy scream is beyond insufferable. I’d rather be in a room with multiple of people scratching nails down freshly laid plaster. Obviously being non verbal and refusing to wear her aids means she’s beyond reasoning and screaming like her dependency assured her an escape of the safety clasp of the trike straps.

Luka then sits firmly on someone’s immaculate front lawn. Refusing to move, ‘I’m tired. My legs tired.’ Resulted into a swift non hesitated lift home from Papa Jon with Nana Bev.

So then that leaves 4 to get through the 1.5 miles home. Seems pretty reasonable right?

No. Livy was completely and utterly relentless, for the entire half hour walk back. Luckily for Dean he was taking a shockingly slow pace to ensure he didn’t miss any important detail of cricket. But as he turned the corner, he dropped the valued precious iPad into the road causing a cracked the screen… resulting into a pissed off daddy. I’m pretty sure 2 days on I’ve still got the torturing scream scarred into my ear drum for eternity. How nobody stopped to see if the child in distress from being kept safe and unharmed, was actually not kidnapped. Calves burning, heart pumping, sweaty hair and matching red faces and potentially a migraine statically in place for the entire week.

We made it. Just.

Obviously the real winners of the day was Papa Jon and Nanny Mags, choosing a air con cool room, cricket on a tv with a chilled beer in hand was more appealing that a hellish walk for a icecream that was only chucked in the bin after all…

How ever, family time is something that comes cherished and valued. Even if it wasn’t picture perfect, it’s still memories made to last a life time.

Published by Mothering Silence

A late twenty-something mother of two boys and a profoundly deaf diva of almighty sass. In between splitting spontaneous sibling wars, curiatimg pillow forts and channeling inner superheroes. Mothering Silence documents a brutally honest truth of the trials and tribulations of motherhood. (The toughest hood.) Here you'll find the weekly ramblings of the rollercoaster life of my journey in motherhood. *Please note my style of writing is tongue in cheek.

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