This is the story of two days out, except one half has images and the other doesn’t. You’ll be able to see why as you read on.
A couple of weeks ago I discovered a local village was holding a scarecrow festival. The weather forecast wasn’t up to much but we decided to stop by and check it out anyway. When we arrived we were greeted by the funny sight of scarecrows dotted along the roadside.
Firstly we saw the lion from Madagascar. Can you spot who has the best beard and scariest looking face?
Now, this all did indeed happen, and everyone was in reasonably fine form until we arrived at the Village Hall. I sometimes think I’m guilty of focussing on the positives of a day out and conveniently forgetting about any hiccups. However, I thought I might share with you the second half of our visit. Much, much more unsuccessful as it was! I would have loved to capture some of the tantrum moments on camera, but quite frankly just didn’t have the energy.
It started to go downhill when we arrived at the hall and both mummy and daddy realised simultaneously that neither of us had any cash on us. Cue first strop from eldest as there were a few rides and stalls, all obviously requiring money.
Daddy was dispatched to hunt out a cashpoint, but funnily enough he couldn’t find one. It being a village. Cue a face like thunder from eldest.
While I had been waiting for my husband to go on his fruitless journey, I’d been in the playground and the wind whipped up and it started to rain. I spent a frustrating few minutes chasing littlest round the swings trying to get him to wear his raincoat. He screamed, quite a lot. He hates wearing coats, and jumpers, and rain coats. In fact he would be happy in a t-shirt, even if it were freezing out there.
When my husband arrived, we gave in and opted for the easy option-we got in the car and went home. So we did have a nice time, kind of.