You purchase some holiday reading.
Your whole life gets packed into several weekend bags.
You ring the boarding kennels.
The kids can’t sleep for excitement.
“How many more sleeps?” quickly turns into “Are we there yet?”
The kids are in the car for an hour before it’s time to go.
Sun block has gone up in price. Swizzers!
Sand. Sand. Everywhere.
Late nights with the kids running round. Lovely, lovely 8.30am starts the next day.
Forgetting to brush teeth!
Buckets and spades.
Pretty sea side holiday homes.
Collecting sea shells.
The kids demanding to know why there is seaweed on their plate.
The smell of evening BBQ’s at the holiday resort.
And too soon, all too soon, you’re packing your bags for the return journey home. Lovely memories are downloaded from the camera onto Facebook and the computer. There is a big black bin bag filled with dirty laundry. The kids are still covered in sand, despite being showered several times a day.
There is a distinct need to eat something that is not picnic based. It’s lovely to sleep in your own bed but you miss the holiday home and the sound of the sea at night.
The kids start to argue with each other again and complain loudly about how bored they are. It’s lovely to return home when the sun is still shining but you’re not really bothered.
Now that your holiday is over, who needs the sun?
And more tellingly, you need another holiday to recover from the one you’ve just had.