My Holiday

by C'riz, class 2B.

Today was the day. Loaded up the disco with Ma Ma, Idiot Girl et Sasha le dog. Off we trundled towards Scarborough, which is approx 2 hours & 90 miles that way. (points north east).

But first lets go to Filey, for they have a section of beach where you can take your dog. Dumped my 4x4 in a disabled space, and then promptly made everyone think "what a faker", when a volvo tried to park behind me, so I pushed my disco forwards a foot so he could get in. Ma Ma is the disabled one, but they don't know that.

Walked onto beach, via the ice cream shop as Idiot Girl is one of the people that sees ice cream and must have. Sasha a) goes nutso running about b) discovers what waves are (and doesn't like them) & c) lets several other dogs steal her ball.

A small break for feeding time at the zoo, a visit to the arcade for me, more beach for the dog, and then it's on to the main event in Scarborough. We arrive for the model navel warfare. Despite having a commentator that needed to learn when to shut the hell up it went rather well. Apart from dogs don't like things that go bang.

What else shall we do? Hmmm. A walk that way. That way being the new and shiny park. It was very nice, but I actually liked it more before in it's ruined splendour. But I'm strange like that.

Let's go fly a kite. Up to the highest height. And send it soaring. Er. no. Minutes of entertainment spent deciphering the chinglish instructions. Ok, Idiot Girl, you have control of the lines, I have hold of the kite. I will throw it into the air and you will fly it!

Oh dear, it's crashed. Repeat x 5.... But then success! Fly fly fly! I quickly grab my mobile and take a photo of the kite flying. I put it back in pocket, and the kite then arcs downwards. At a rather high velocity. Straight for me as it happens.... Blammo!

The plastic reinforcing pointy bit (stop me if I'm getting too technical) smacks straight into the bridge of my nose. I drop like a sack of spuds going argh! Man down! Medic! and other dramatic things. The dog at this point thinks it would be great fun to attack me as well, so I'm splat with a dog sat on my head. Marvellous. How we all laughed!

All the fun must end, so we trundle homewards. On the way back I can feel myself getting rather tired, so having no fear of death ask Idiot Girl if she would like to drive. I figure my car doesn't have long to live now, so what's the worse that can happen? We arrive back, and there's still 11 miles left before it hits 150,000 miles. So I may even get another week before it blows.

Final score: Apart from injury, a most successful day. Idiot Girl wasn't a PITA for a change. It didn't rain. And nobody tried to sneak take that's greatest hits into my cd player. Woo! Yay!