My family is safe and well and home.
We should be enjoying a glass of local Spanish wine on the desk of a large cruise ship, about to set sail from Tenerife with the warm breeze on our faces and a belly full of good food. Instead I am at home, at my desk drinking a cold glass of sauvignon blanc and looking on the bright side of life. Thos morning at the airport before we check in our baggage, Little Pickle took a tumble from Mr Gherkin's shoulders and landed on his head. He cried and puked and we rushed him to hospital in an ambulance and abandoned all plans for our well-planned, much-looked-foreward-to cruise holiday with the in-laws whilst they looked after Cornichon at our house. He was wobbly in the ambulance and then fell asleep and then was fine in the Emergency Room and bright as a button as we waited for a bed on the ward and positively bouncing when we stayed on the ward for 6 hours. Whilst we were doing all of the above the in-laws were phoning round trying to work out a way of carrying on with our holiday despite missing the flight. We came home at 4 and have a plan in place. We catch the cruise up on their next stop tomorrow, flying from a different airport further away from home.
Taxi is booked, boys are sleeping, wine is in hand, waiting to start out holiday all over again tomorrow!
and then the baby turned seven
15 hours ago