We were having a party for Monty the Saturday after his birthday (the Tuesday) so wanted to keep his actual day really simple, just a picnic, cake, scoot along the seafront and not much else.
It rained, just drizzled initially.
My family are so British when it comes to summertime, carry on regardless and all that.
So I Just slung on a coat and set out the picnic in the drizzle. The drizzle became rain and my poor little Nan just dutifully put on her cagoule. My Grandad put on what I can only describe as a dodgy Tommy Hilfiger fleece ( the fake kind that you buy from the market with a shirt with Kelvin Cline emblazoned across it) I started to laugh hysterically until My Mum informed me it was not even my Grandad's fleece but her soon to be Husbands. Whoops.We sat and ate in the rain.
Then I noticed there was snot on my trench coat. A long silvery line of snail trail courtesy of lil legs.
Then Blossom sharted over herself. And me. I literally had shit all over my top.
Monty opened his presents and we packed up the picnic and literally flung everything into the car and drove to the closest soft play place we could find.Monty was none the wiser and just thought it was all part of the treat. He ran rings around my Grandad and exhausted my Mum. All good stuff.
The gorgeous Husband saw his Sergeant with his kids, and I joined in with the chitchat.
It was only afterwards I remembered the shit all over my top.
Oh. Bloody hell.
This was the day after his birthday. There was no rain the day after. Typical.