Sep 23, 2012

School Holidays

The school holidays this time kicked off with an extended sleepover with young Hannah J, our little Eloise's bestest friend. Mother J was taking herself off to Stradbroke Island to get rat-arsed celebrate a birthday with her friends, and we offered to help by looking after Number One Daughter for the weekend.

Oh, and it was Nicole's birthday.

So after some convoluted logistics we rendez-voused with the H at our house after we'd been to the market and she'd been up to whatever it is she gets up to of a Saturday morning, and we went to see The Mummy at the Queensland Museum.

The Mummy is in Brisbane at the moment. Some Mummies from the British Museum have come to visit. There's a 3-D fillum you go to see and then an exhibition with caskets and trinkets and whot not.

Young Hannah unfortunately must have been watching too many horror videos because in the run up to our visit she had convinced herself that she would be absolutely petrified and that it was going to be scariest thing of all time ever and that Mummies were evil etc etc.

And sure enough after - and again I use this word advisedly - literally twenty-two seconds of watching the 3-D file, to be precise the bit where the camera flies between the computer-generated Mummy's feet and aims itself like a remotely piloted drone at the Cadaver's long-evaporated yet tastefully redacted gonads, poor Hannah broke down in tears and had to be removed.

She soon recovered, if not in the actual exhibition, which she turned out not to be really in the mood for, then in the shop, where a mummy-shaped pencil case lifted her spirits most excellently.

Then the fighting began when Eloise discovered some computer screens and the taking-turns artifice broke down, as it always and inevitably does.

Nicole took her leave and set down somewhere to rest her burgeoning birthday bump and I took a hands-off approach to mediation and entertainment as we looked at various things and other things.

Oh, the shock on their little faces when I delicately finger-tipped the tippy-tail bone of the Muttaburrasaurus! The delight when they felt with their own little fingers the difference between twenty-two and twenty-four degrees, or whatever the real number were, and understood the difference between a boy and a girl for the egg of a turtle.

After the Museum we dragged our tired behinds to West End and ate Tibetan food in a restaurant where manners broke down because we were all tired and hungry, but recovered when we became un-hungry.

For want of a thing to do the next day, rather than ponce about in the garden we went to the beach where we collected shells, built sandcastles and jumped over waves, before going in for an actual swim in the actual sea. No dolphins this day though. Little Hannah was missing her Mum and we tried to phone her, but it transpired in later investigations that my phone had bricked itself, which is a story in itself.

Anyway we were at the beach for - and I use this word advisedly - literally hours and totally buggered by the end of it. Well I was. And as I was the only one who remained awake for the drive home, I assume so were they.

Monday meant home-time for Hannah but work-time for Eloise as she went for a three-hour marathon lesson at Dance School to learn the Duet she is to perform at The Concert.

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