Monday kicked off with a stomach bug that has been systematically picking off our household, one after the other, for the past three or so weeks. I’ve been nervously waiting for my turn but so far I’m okay. Of course, this now leaves me slightly uneasy with the suspicion that everyone else in the family has an alien baby inside them, except for me, and now rather than celebrating the fact that I’m not a green-faced chunder wonder, I’m feeling a little rejected. Why am I not good enough for alien impregnation? Why can’t I experience a week or two with no appetite? Gods only know I could stand to shed a few kilos, and involuntary vomiting is so much easier than sticking my own fingers down my throat!
Contrary to what medical professionals may tell you, the best cure for alien impregnation (or ‘stomach bug’ if that’s what you chose to call it) is not plenty of fluids and bed rest, but plenty of fluids, loads of sand, a good smather of sunblock, and a spot of sunshine if you can happen to find some.
The weatherman predicts more sodden grey rain from Friday, so we decided to hotfoot it to the beach and make the most of the brilliant blue sky. Not a cloud in sight, and no wind whatsoever.
Of course, as soon as we set up our little afternoon camp upon the beach, the clouds began to roll across, with a large ominous black one hovering in the background (like a cleverly-disguised Mothership, keeping an eye on its human cocoons.)
Ignoring Mothership’s watchful eye, we had a great slice of afternoon. The kids enjoyed driving monster trucks through the sand and teaching their dinosaurs how to swim, being dragged through the super-low tide on a bodyboard and mowing their hands through the soft mud-like sand.