7425/19945
Cyprus is going to go unexplored on this holiday as all I want to do is nothing. The kids were in kids club this morning and Catie was having a treatment at the spa and I just found a shady spot and read Ricky’s Hand by David Quantick (technically this still counts as work as I will doubtless interview him on Book Club, but reading is my favourite holiday activity so it’s win/win). It’s a fun sci-fi comedy romp that I can’t say too much about for fear of spoiling it for the rest of you, but really the kind of book I’d like to write myself (you will, Oscar, you will). The kids loved kids club so much that they were disappointed to be removed at lunch time, so tomorrow they’re going in for the WHOLE DAY. What have I done to deserve this? It’s literally the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.
Phoebe had made friends with a couple of sisters and in the afternoon they played in the swimming pool. Ernie desperately wanted to join in, but they shunned him in the usual mean fashion and he didn’t understand why. As the youngest kid of my family, I remember that feeling well and as a nerdy teenager I also remember when older girls (and girls my age and younger) also had no interest in me. The girls were pushing each other into the pool and Ernie stood on the edge shouting “Who wants to push me in?”, all excited and hopeful. But he couldn’t even get them to do that. My heart broke along with his. It was funny as well though. The comedy of recognition. The comedy of "at least it isn’t me this time".
They finally let him play tag in the water, but made him it and as he is hardly able to swim that made it impossible for him to catch them. By God he gave it a good go though, thrashing his way across the small pool, bobbing up and down. He was determined to play with these kids, just as he was frustrated that they wouldn’t go easy on him. He never got anywhere close.
Finally he claimed to be drowning and I had to jump in to save him. Poor little love. He was mentally and physically exhausted. At least he would sleep well.
We had dinner under the stars and I eschewed the chance to have a beer or a glass of wine. I thought I was likely to drink on this holiday and it’s still a possibility - it’s our 11th wedding anniversary on Friday - but I am happy enough with a nice coffee or some water and the desire to slip off the wagon is far from burning. It may not be necessary. It might well spoil things.
