Beach Holidays

So we get to the beach and it’s beautiful- white sand, turquoise waters – all that picture postcard stuff. I’m there kicking back under an umbrella, getting my feet in the sand.

And Mum and Dad want photos -obviously – because I’m cute. So they’re there putting this big straw hat on me and these weird sunglasses and it’s kind of annoying but I’m grinning and bearing it.

But then they take it too far, don’t they?

I’m suddenly whisked out of my shady spot and put in this awful Velcro wetsuit and before I know it they’re heading into the sea with me in their arms.

Now don’t get me wrong I’m pretty high achieving in my Puddleducks swim class but I do like to swim in something a bit warmer than an ice bath. I’m more a kind of jacuzzi girl.

And here I am being submerged by both parents in the Atlantic Ocean in mid-March.

And I’m thinking,

‘I won’t be holidaying with these people again.’


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