MODERN FAMILY. OR SOME VARIATION THEREOF

Sadly this will not be a post about the bastardisation of the English language by lazy Gen WTF. But that is a great idea.


No, this one's about wanting one, just ONE outing with my children that doesn't end in threats of lifetime television bans and me losing my shit*

*shit will be a recurring theme in this post - fair warning.


So..


‘This is the WORST Christmas Day EVA!!!’


That above? Yeah those words? They are the exact words texted to me by my daughter on Christmas day. My 12 year old daughter. From the car she had locked herself in. Not 30 metres from where we were sitting. Ten minutes prior to this, she had been joking, wearing a paper hat from her rubbish Christmas Cracker, repeating the same crap joke and chasing her brothers around the bench with ice. But, as these things tend to do, it all went to hell. All of a sudden the ice down the back of the shirt ‘gave her third degree burns and nobody cared!!!’  Cue swiping her brand new mobile phone from the park bench, storming over to the car and locking herself inside. Cue the text message. Cue Phil and I lying down on the park bench, full to the gills after consuming what felt like an entire Turkey and longing for the days when she would simply just shit directly in the shampoo aisle at Woolworths.

Speaking of which, not twenty minutes prior to this, Jack, the 5 year old, decided he needed to do a poo. Desperately. And it seemed although this magnificent park had a fabulous BBQ and rotunda, the council didn't quite have the foresight to put in an amenities block. So on Christmas day, in an anonymous park in Torquay, should you have driven past, you may have seen a lady with a purple paper Christmas Cracker hat on her head attempting to successfully calm a small child down who was FREAKING THE FUCK out about doing a poo behind a bush ‘like a dog!'  

Meantime Sam was running around the park. In circles. On some kind of individual solo marathon race against himself, often commentating on his own performance. ‘And yes spectators, even though it seemed impossible just moments ago, it appears Sam is going to break the world record! Watch this amazing feat people!’

And for the most part, Phil and I simply lay down and looked over at each other under the picnic table and gave each a look that I believe translated to a cross between FFS and WTF? Because we wanted the day to be serene and a little bit perfect. 

But maybe this is just the modern family. Or some variation of it. No outing is ever perfect in our world. Christmas day was no exception, but to honest, I like it this way. Perfect would be kinda boring. Although, let's face it, I'd be willing to try on the kind for size. Maybe just once.

When have your outings not gone to plan? Or do they ever?