We go to the local pub. The first table we choose is conveniently located next to the wide open gate to the car park. We can’t eat food at the second table, apparently. We decide to move to a table that has been recently vacated by a man on his own. Five minutes later, just as we have finished relocating all our paraphanalia, the man returns with a fresh beer and promptly reclaims his table. He invites us to stay, but he is one of those worrying people who wears their phone earpiece permanently. Besides, I’m not sure he’s realised that there are actually six of us and not just Hub and I plus baby. Plus, if we stay at his table, I will be obliged to apologise to him almost constantly while we encourage the children to eat in a civilised manner.
There’s a big climbing frame with a slide and monkey bars. Why are our three eldest so fascinated with the screw that fell out of the wooden post and the wood chip that’s on the floor.