Family Ramblings - Hanna B recalls holiday havoc

Family Ramblings...

Written by Hanne B

Iwould say that my husband and I generally agree on the bigger things in life. Where to live, what schools to send the kids to, how to keep said kids alive, which Nordic Noir series to watch next on Walter Presents, etc... But when it comes to family holidays, I am defi nitely the tent and a toothbrush type, whilst he, most certainly, is the warmth and wifi type. A few years ago it was his turn to decide how to spend those precious two weeks in August. We drove to his chosen luxury spa hotel in the South of Germany. Th e reason for driving was born from the romantic idea of having the fl exibility to stop off at historical castles and natural beauty spots along the way. But with this idea of ours we had somehow not accounted for the time spent actually in the car. After 13 hours or so, we had listened to the soundtrack from Moana on repeat and had now decided it was easier to say the radio needed charging. We’d had to stop the car each time my daughter lost Bunny and convinced herself that he had somehow escaped through the window that she had repeatedly opened, despite being fi rmly told not to. And each time we’d stopped, we’d taken the opportunity to add further support to the luggage wall we had built between the kids to stop them from strangling each other whenever one spotted the blue car fi rst or the other ate the last egg in the Haribo packet. ‘Hey kids!’ My husband spoke in that tone all parents know. Th e one when you’ve somehow managed, with all your might, to turn rage in to excitement with which to distract them - the one that makes you think you are winning at parenting. ‘Th ink of that pool from the brochure, kids! We’ll be there in less than an hour and you two can jump straight in! Mummy and I will unpack. All you have to do is put on your swimsuit and your swim shorts and go! But only if you be quiet and let Daddy concentrate for the rest of the journey. OK?’ Th e silence was absolute bliss! We arrive. Th e hotel is stunning, the fountain in the lobby is absolutely beautiful and the views from the restaurant are second to none. I am momentarily distracted by the cocktail list, whilst my husband checks us in at reception. ‘You OK, mum?’ My son gives me a gentle squeeze and I know we are going to have a fabulous time. ‘Sure’ I say. ‘Where’s your sister?’ ‘In the pool.’ ‘In the pool?’ I ask, a little puzzled. I look towards my husband as he receives the key cards from the receptionist. ‘But we’ve only just checked in?’ ‘She went in that one.’ My son turns and points to the fountain. I see the images before me in slow motion as my gut fi lls with panic. My 4 year old has opened her Gruff alo suitcase, dug out her Peppa Pig swim suit, placed her Winnie Th e Pooh skirt and t-shirt on a bench next to an older and slightly perplexed hotel guest and jumped straight in the fountain. I am mortifi ed yet also impressed by how well she has folded her clothes on the bench. ‘I love this hotel Mummy!’ She squeals. ‘We need to come back here every year!’ From the look on the receptionist’s face, I don’t think he agrees. My husband looks at me with some degree of disappointment as he spots the cocktail menu, which had caused my distraction to begin with, still in my hand. Sometimes you win at parenting. Sometimes you don’t

Hanne Bonczoszek is a local author and in Salisbury with her husband, her two children and a Cockapoo named Enzo.