Mummy and Daddy have taken the children on holiday to the Isle of Wight, and are staying in a lovely holiday home. It is a lovely relaxing time. Squeezing four humans, two large car seats, a travel cot, a pushchair, high chair, four suitcases and a week’s supply of other essentials into a Ford Fiesta for several hours was especially relaxing.
Nonetheless, Mummy and Daddy awake upon their first morning of their first actual holiday feeling oddly serene. The minuscule holiday apartment is calm and peaceful, and the smell of damp only very distant now compared with when they arrived due to Mummy’s liberal application of bleach last night.
There is an odd noise from the living room.
“Did you get The Baby up?” asks Mummy, turning sleepily to Daddy.
“No,” says Daddy, “Why?”
“Oh… no reason,” says Mummy dismissively. “I thought I heard a sound that I thought sounded a little bit like The Baby was in the living room, that is all.”
“You must be mistaken,” says Daddy. “The Baby is in a very secure travel cot and asleep in her bedroom with Big Bro. She would have to get out of her cot, unzip the tent-cover which is zipped closed all around, get past her Big Bro and open two doors which I definitely closed, to get into the lounge. And she’s zipped into a sleeping bag so no way could she do that!”
Mummy laughs at the very suggestion. “Ho ho! What an amusing idea! How mistaken I must have been!” muses Mummy, “It was probably a gust of wind.” She and Daddy smile at each other and fall back to sleep for half an hour of sleepy bliss.
They are rudely awoken by a thud from the living room.
“Hmmmmm…” says Daddy, “That was a loud gust of wind.”
Mummy gets up to investigate.
Rebel Baby is in the lounge. It is evident, from the state of the lounge, she has been in the lounge for some time. She is in her sleeping bag. Apparently, she can crawl in her sleeping bag.
Apparently, she can unzip a tent cover, climb out of a travel cot, bypass an eight year old who is plugged into an MP3 player and is oblivious to a small human passing less than thirty centimetres from his nose, open two doors and let herself into the lounge, in her sleeping bag. Mummy is not sure she could do this in a sleeping bag. In fact, RB looks rather pleased about it.
So much for a relaxing holiday, thinks Mummy.
Mummy was too sleepy and confused to photograph the actual carnage that was the living room. But this was the look RB had when she was discovered. This look pretty much says it all.