Being away may make me neglect writing this blog, but not thinking about it. Its original intent guides me through most days and leaves me scribbling notes on napkins. One such stained and biro-covered beauty, which I shall recount here, happened to be from a children’s play centre we visited out of desperation on the very wettest day of our recent trip. Big bumpy slides, snot-smeared ball pools, luminous cushion-covered climbing frames – you know the scene.

On arrival, despite their mother’s preference for back gardens, my two four-year-olds went racing off with excited screeches to clamber over squashy purple triangles and throw themselves head first down the least terrifying slide they could find. I chose a seat and took out my book, only to be too distracted to read. Continue reading →