Yesterday we went to visit relatives in Runcorn, Cheshire. It was my cousin’s daughter’s second birthday. Are you still with me?
I went with my Dad, my Stepmum, the 6 year old and the 4 year old. We travelled in the same car which meant I had to sit, wedged, between my darling children for an hour and a half.
Now I know why they argue. I felt like a child again, myself, as I berated the 6 year old continuously for touching my white linen trousers with her sandals. The 4 year old fell asleep on my shoulder, leaving a snail trail of drool on my top.
I had brought some snacks for the journey. Noting my white linen trousers I bought a selection of dry cheese snack products from Tesco and water in bottles.
When the 6 year old saw the cheese strings she was like a heroin addict being shown a bag of the brown stuff. Her eyes widened and I told her this was her once yearly treat. I don’t trust any food product that can be fashioned into a palm tree in 0.5 seconds. Finished off with a healthy *cough* bag of mini cheddars their snack attack was over … and my white linen trousers were still white.
I tweeted about the cheese strings and got the following response from my sister …
I had a flashback to the Summer of 2000. I was sat in My Sister’s Espace on the way to the South of France. The car had five people in it and was packed to the roof with luggage and holiday ‘stuff’.
My nephew, then aged 6, had eaten a hearty lunch on the Channel Tunnel of cheese strings and Haribo. As we left the Tunnel I settled down for a nap, he was sat behind me. As I drifted off, dreaming of yachts in St Tropez there was an almighty vomiting sound, behind me.
My nephew had, in one swift movement, released the cheese string/Haribo mix combo from his stomach and deposited it all over the back of my chair, narrowly missing my hair.
My Sister sprang into action, and cleared the sick, like only a mother can. Armed with a can of Febreze she eradicated the smell of cheese strings and Haribo. Unfortunately for the rest of the journey (24 hours) and the next two weeks the car smelt of Febreze, sick … cheese strings and Haribo.
I can still smell it now.
… and as our journey continued to Runcorn yesterday, sat trapped between my offspring, I tried to protect my white linen trousers with a hoodie and moved the 4 year old’s sleeping mouth away from my shoulder in case of any cheese string evacuation.