gone fishin'

tuesday 21.9.2010
J.T. has gone fishing. He got up very early, fussed around and then asked "is it ok if I go fishing for an hour?" I knew this was what he wanted to do and was annoyed that he'd had to do the fussing beforehand and wake me up. I think he was working up the courage to suggest that he nick off, while leaving me with four kids. Of course his fussing woke them up, so as soon as he left, there were calls - from the other end of this vast space - "i neeeed to go to the toilet! I'm busting!!" Now H (oldest) and M (youngest) were still asleep, so this became a logistical challenge. The toilet block is visible from the camper, but there was no way I was sending E and C (5 and 3) to the loos by themselves. So I left H - now half awake - in charge of M and the rest of us walked to the amenities. After checking out the loos, I sent E and C into the disabled cubicle together and told them to lock the door. (Just so you know, there was a sign saying feel free to use the disabled facilities, when not currently in use.) I then waited outside the building so I could hear them (C singing and E giving instruction) and see anyone trying to break in and steal my other two from the camper. I'm sure nobody else would send their children near the toilets because I looked like some crazy woman, standing outside, listening at the door and staring all the while at our camper across the way - which probably looked like I was staring at the (both female) couple in the camper situated between the loos and our camper - but all seemed to be going well. Until E came out without C to give me C's night nappy and tell me it was wet. "Where's C?" "She's in there and the door's locked!" she tells me with pride in her voice. Oh dear, my heart sank. Not a week earlier, C had locked herself in a cubicle and then pooed. Unfortunately I was unavailable as I was with M trying to capture the magic of an Uluru sunset for E to present to her kindy class on return to school and J.T had sent them on a toilet mission on their own. H had been required to crawl under the door and clean up her soiled sister, because J.T hadn't wanted to bust in on a building full of teenage girls. This time, luckily, E got back inot the cubicle and there was no poo to be found. My two "middle girls" emerged from the amenities block with proud smiles and we trekked across to confirm that my "outer girls" were still snug in their beds. Why don't I ever get to *"go fishing"?

*I say "go fishing" because I don't actually want to go fishing. Yuck! Who wants to kill things by pulling them out of their environment, by giving them an unwanted (I assume) piercing and then leaving them to flop around on the banks of their former home while they drown in the air? J.T. and millions of others it would seem. I wouldn't mind just standing by myself for an hour though. I could even hold a rod if it made it more acceptable, just without a nasty hook on the end.