A Little Bit of Father's Day Marsupial Fondling

It's Father's Day today in Orstralia, and so it fell to me to make certain decisions. I didn't really want to make any of them, and the flow was there, presenting itself to me to be gone with.

The first manifestation of flow was when I awoke to find breakfast in bed mysteriously absent from the day's agenda. Actually I realised that later. The first thing I realised that my nearest and dearest was still asleep, though my youngest was actually the nearest but she was asleep too, if that makes any sense?

I got up to make some coffee and tea, and found Eloise on the back deck engaging in arts and crafts. That piqued my interest - arts and crafts at 8.30am on a Sunday morning is a bit Stepford Wives at any time of the year - but after Eloise told me what she was up to, and I realised that it was Father's Day, my interest was eclipsed by the feeling of having been somehow robbed of my breakfast in bed, which was clearly not going to be forthcoming.

Unencumbered by bitterness in any of its wicked forms, I finished making the drinks and went back to bed. A simply joyous round of present-opening at some later time; a "beer-saver," a "credit-card lamp," a "wallet " from Eloise. Lovely! Eloise was very pleased with her efforts and her infectious enthusiasm was heart-warming if ultimately treatable.

Lyra's presents were retrieved from the Nursery bag where they had been languishing forgotten since Monday, but she decided that they were hers actually and that she didn't wish to surrender them to me, which was a pity since the laminated foot-book-mark might actually come in handy.

I gently suggested that we might breakfast upon the bready delights of the Red Brick Bakery and the suggestion was met with wholehearted welcome, and some time later, croissants and pains au chocolat and friandes were washed down with coffee and hot chocolate.

The flow came to haunt me when the time came to decide what we would be doing today. I said that I didn't care, and that was true, although obviously I didn't want to spend it suspended upside down, hanging from my shrivelling testicles by crocodile clips in a sub-zero room-sized refrigerator surrounded by the corpses of brahman bulls, their tongues lolling limply from between their blackened lips; basically it was a choice between a walk on the beach and a trip to Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary.

Now on the one hand, the beach did appeal, but it would be a drive and then a walk and, not to be defined by my recent injuries or anything, limited mobility would no doubt vecome an issue. No swimming (actually a plus given the water temperatures at the moment). But walking, running, fatigue, sandcastles, pain, fatigue.

On the other hand, Eloise suggested Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary and I though, here's a girl who's actually put a bit of an effort into this Father's Day thing, and even though Nicole doesn't like koalas, there will be places to sit down, resg would be possible, always polenta to do and we can bail out gracefully if we need to.

So the flow was clearly pointed me in Eloise's direction and that was the way that I went.

Just the four of us going, easy pack, out the door, Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt, off we go.

So we got there, monkeyed around a bit, Eloise cuddled a koala, snore, then we went to the birds of prey demonstration thingy.

The birds of prey thingy was very good, the owls were really on their game; this Barking Owl zoomed down our row and almost took Lyra out with its wing as she was standing on my lap. She wasn't fazed though, and it certainly got her attention. Zoom! Iluka the sea eagle was a regal eagle, vocal in its disdain for us and afterwards we chatted with Chantelle, the eagle's legal keeper about Iluka's story.

Eloise and I swanned around with the sheep dog and the sheep and a spot of shearing for a bit before going to the farm yard where Eloise got herself all in a lather just because I told her that the sheep were butting today. Every time Lyra went near one Eloise would wade in and have a panic, trying to pull her away and being generally obstructive and upsetting before we told her to emm her oh flaming bee because how is Lyra ever going to learn anything if she's forcibly removed from any potential threat before it actually you know actuates?!

So then a spot of lunch, so far so good, before Lyra started to flag.

Well, off to the toilet, where I have to wait for a stall to come free, watching trainers tapping to mysterious music, before making a little awkward noise of my own.

Then to the kangaroos, which where Lyra's flag turned into a fully-fledged banner emblazoned with the word "Tantrum."

Eloise and I went to see the wombats, but the wombats were covering their ears trying to keep out the screaming. Tourists were moving past at a rapid rate, looking disarrayed and dishevelled. When things calmed down a bit I want back to check on Nicole who was weathering the storm with composure and fielding offers from help from well-meaning strangers with professional detachment.

She looked like she was doing all right, and my presence had ensured at least another five minutes of tantrum, and now Lyra was head-butting the tarmac path, so I thought that my place was probably really with Eloise, trying to make sure Number One daughter wasn't mauled by any rogue boxing kangaroos.

We wandered around for a while, but the kangaroos and wallabies were on their siesta. Soon Nicole and a much-improved Lyra caught up with us, and with the screaming having abated the marsupials came out for feeding and fondling.

Lyra and Eloise made friends with lots of our Australian Furry Friends, and the four bags of Roo Feed we'd bought and were completely sure that would be too much what with siestas and all, turned out in the end to be inadequate.

So, food spent, and at Eloise's insistence, we went to feed the lorikeet mob, which was lots of fun as it always is and that was that, game over, time up, hasta lavista, arriverderci, so long, ciao, grazie, au revoir.

Pizza? Yes please.