There has to be a morning after.

Now who remembers that old song? In this part of the world that is the feeling of most parents as the school holidays wind up. I have been lucky in that I have only had the urge to blind side a couple of little ferals at the supermarket with my walking stick. Fortunately the mother concerned noticed her son running up and down the isle I was in and nearly up ending me due to his having a box over his head and not seeing me, therefore plowing into me and Husband of the century requiring soothing before he went ahead and manually removed both the box and the head from the child’s shoulders.

These holidays, I have at least spent part of the time quietly checking out the backyard for an alien space craft. Because the alien currently posing as my daughter has not been doing a very good job impersonating her. It’s either that or Wonder kid has finally worked out the truth, do the chores and you really do get money. Of course being a lovely little trainee capitalist, she has been going overboard with the doing of jobs. Applying herself with all the zeal and capability of a ten year old. In other words I am rewarding the attitude, more than the actual work done.

Today is once again pay day, poor poppet is sleeping in, I think the shock of actual self inflicted manual labour has taken it’s toll on her. No doubt she will soon be doing her near perfect train wreck impersonation or getting out of bed if you will, and proceed to quietly and patiently wait for the dollars to hit her hot little hand. Then there will be polite enquiries about any particular places we may visit today in order for her to plan her spending of the funds.

After this has taken place, departure times will be requested because Wonder kid knows only too well, if she doesn’t pin us down on actual times, chances are we will either forget or loose all inclination to throw ourselves into the school holiday shopping crowd Armageddon. Where yet another midget feral will probably plow into me thus requiring my settling of the Husband so that all children return from outings with their heads still neatly perched on their shoulders.

Ah the joys of school holidays.