I was woken from my sleep by Jasper crying, "100's of ants Daddy, quick!". Sure enough, when we leapt out of bed, 1,000s of tiny little forest ants were marching along the kitchen work top and along the wall, across the carpet and past the window. As quick as we could, we all started moving things out of the way and then started squashing the ants. As soon as we thought we had moved enough, more ants were visible. We ended up taking out carpets, chairs, cushions, mats. You name it, it was moved as we frantically brushed and squashed. To add to the annoyance, because of the shelf failure two days ago, which we still haven't been able to fix, we have stacks of books under the dining area table, which all had to be moved in order to take the carpet up!!!
Just as that was going on, all before breakfast of course, the 2 hungriest children in the world were waiting outside to come back into the clean ant free (ish) zone. Maya suddenly said, "My tooth's fallen out!" And thankfully it had! Those of you who have experience of children with wobbly teeth will know that whilst the tooth is wobbling, the child does nothing else but wobble the tooth at every opportunity, right in front of you no matter how horrible you find it!!! Eating is hard. Speaking is hard. Sleeping is hard. Life is hard when you have a wobbly tooth.
After breakfast, we left the site and headed for the beach. The same beach as we discovered yesterday afternoon, only our plan was to get there early today as we were sure that it would be busy with it A) being sunny and B) being the weekend. The car park we had eyed up to stay in overnight was locked up!!! With several motorhomes trapped inside! So we drove a little further and looked for another suitable parking space for our 7.5 metre vehicle. Imagine trying to park that at Lyme Regis on a busy Saturday!!! We did eventually stumble across some parking, loaded ourselves up with beach gear, and excitedly stomped down the golden, sandy slope to the beach. Half way down, bare footed I stood on something sharp and collapsed in pain. Buried in the sand was the end stump of a piece of driftwood which had a rather sharp spike on the end. I limped on down to the beach, and checked to see what damage had been done. A small puncture right in the arch of my foot pouring with blood and filled with sand and grit. Oh the pain!!! Thankfully we had some bottled water with us, so Ed washed it out and I rested my foot. Once dry, I had to put a plaster on to keep sand out. Annoyingly we only have Winnie The Pooh plasters, so now I sit foot raised toying this with Tigger trying to cheer me up and ease the pain.
I think we all deserve an ice cream after our troubles today!!!
Clare
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