Off home

Tra la la! We're off home! Yippee! I can get a good night's sleep without the trampolining magpie, the poo pumping men or Mr Sunshine saying good morning at 4 am! I am in quite a good mood as I chivvy everyone along. I packed the car last night so it's only the kids, me, and the sandpile in Squirrel's bedside cabinet to go.

We go home via Battle, appropriately enough, to have a screaming fit about three metres from where the Saxon King Harold was killed and William I changed the direction of English history. I could see the French party moving off with their hands clamped over their ears and their audio tours so they could hear through the screams and shrieks provoked by whose daisy was whose for the daisy chain.

Our reenactment as we passed through Battle last year was conducted much more discreetly, in the children's playground in the forest area. Shark and Tiger fought over who was going to sit in the big wooden chair first. The big wooden chair is supposed to be English Heritage's idea of a bit of fun. They think children will sit in it and pretend to be ruler of England. They clearly didn't know about the triplets. It's not about sitting on the big wooden chair that motivates Shark, Squirrel and Tiger, oh no. It's about stopping anyone else from sitting in it. Sticks were used, blood was drawn, and everyone was shouted at by mummy who threatened to confiscate all the sticks. That's a pretty foolish thing to threaten in the middle of a forest, I can tell you, and pretty much weakened my power base.

Last year, in the end, we all went back to the car in disgrace and that's how it ended this year too, with us all squabbling and shouting and leaving this family. Perhaps we'll go back to Battle next year. I can give advance notice of the reenactment if anyone would like to come and referee.

The final car journey home was the second worst of my life. I am still unable to describe the horrors of the first, and I still want to weep now about the second. Suffice to say that Radio 2 was playing a gig by the Pet Shop Boys, so I listened to that. Very loud indeed. And it got me home, with only a stop to weep at Toddington.