In my head it had already landed firmly poo side up

What do you do on a Bank Holiday when the sun is shining? Why go for a picnic, that's what.


Yep. Thought we would have a nice and I underline the word nice, family day out. This included an hour of preparation just to get out of the door. Two huge bags, one huge buggy, two car seats, two children and two adults. 


We got to the park in question, sun shining, both the Pants and Scazaaaah (pronounced with Manc accent) were in a reasonably good mood. 


"Look, why don't we have our picnic over there." Dan pointed at some nice grass interspaced with trees and other families/couples having lovely picnics. 


"Oh good idea." So we grab the bags, the children and plod over to a nicely selected piece of grass.


I lay down the blanket and start to get organised. What this really means is a lot  unpacking.


"There's rabbit shit everywhere." Dan points at little black poops scattered all over the grass, I wash over it, a minor flaw and we are sitting on a blanket that is just big enough for both are backsides. Scazaaaah starts crying. Zack starts crying. 


"There's midgies all over the place." He's right, there are hundreds of them. 


"Right that's it get up we are all moving over to that other tree." This took a further ten minutes. 


The midgies follow us to the new spot five minutes after that.


There we where, each sitting in front of a child to shade them from the sun. Dan was trying to feed Scarlett and I was tube feeding Zack. All the while trying to eat a sandwich and a few pork snacks (hey, they were Marks and Spencer pork snacks).  We glanced over at another couple. They were sat on portable chairs, drinking a glass of wine. Bucket BBQ all set up, food in tupperware. Reading the broadsheets. Oh yes, all very bloody civilised, and no children either. 


A gust of wind suddenly lifted up the recently departed nappy from Scarlett I just grabbed it in time before it disappeared. In my head it had already landed firmly poo side up in the face of the wine drinking, broadsheet reading woman opposite. How's that for your posh picnic. Bitter, me? No of course not. 


As we sat there, now freezing because the sun had moved and being wind swept due to the intermittent gale force wind. Dan turned to me and said, "Well this is pleasant isn't it?"


Picnic, pleasant? Not unless you're middle aged and have no children. Next Bank Holiday I will be decidedly not eating alfresco.