Family Day

Husband works a lot of hours. This means two things. No 1 I don't get that much 'me' time (I don't get out much). No 2 I never see my husband - therefore we get no 'family' time, no 'us' time either. So on the rare days that Husband is off and he isn't a haggard shell of a man - knackered from his vampire like existence - we get to actually spend 'quality' time.

Mundane tasks that families do every weekend become special - just because we are actually doing them together: Sainsburies shops, buying a grate for the fire, taking Sproglet for lunch, going to the park, grabbing a coffee, walking by the canal, etc. Last weekend we had lunch together in a hearty gastropub nearby that is a converted old mill - thus called 'the Old Mill'. Ducks bob up from the water that spills like a fountain in the beer garden. Sproglet jumps when he sees them making his own quacking sounds. I tossed aside my obligatory January diet and embraced bread - is there anything better in life that crusty bread and salted butter?) spuds and sticky toffee pudding with Baileys cream. Sproglet chewed on crusts and chips and then most of my said pudding. Husband flicked through papers and sampled the wine list. It was perfect.

The following day Husband rose earlier than normal and we went to a dull suburban shopping centre filled with the usual high st fare. We moseyed around window shopping, ate lunch and let Sproglet run wild in a book store. Nothing unusual, nothing amazing - but just brilliant.

Life may not be a array of dazzling parties and cultured London experiences (if it ever was) but those little moments make me happier than anything else. I only wish we had them more often...