We started the night before - nappies, wipes, extra milk bottles, white sleepsuits with grippy soles (and his special green one with the red dinosaur), sachets of paracetamol, a little pinafore for her and a sleeveless jumper for him, the toy mobile with flashing lights and the carrot flavoured finger food ... the little trolley suitcase looking more and more bulimic by the minute, disgorging contents shoved down its throat in a hurry, prompting recruitment of more bags and carryalls to mop up the moisturising cream (half kg tub!) and the toothbrushes with the flashing lights and bunny rabbits, desperate attempts to find a spare corner to stuff an electric shaver and a phone charger before finally zipping up the chaos, substituting grunts for swear words, mindful of the excited young audience looking up at their ugly father's night time antics...
The morning after is not short on last minute panic as prams and travel potties jostle each other, looking for elbow space amongst the corpulent luggage piled high in the boot (this is just a day trip, for crying out loud!) as I wonder for the umpteenth time why babies do not come with a statutory warning - some much needed small print, even if insincere, at least a pretence of an apology so that parents can ease their way into domestic madness...
They are finally in their car seats, having gone through stages of loving hugs and bribes for good behaviour through to threats of prespecified geometric indoor real estate - corners - full of naughtiness it seems, as if hallowed ground dedicated to smiling Gods of mischief. One is sobbing, throwing the odd accusatory glance at her father whilst the other kicks the back of my seat with a systematic thoroughness that would put a German to shame - I decide not to stoop low or rise to the occassion, not from any dietary surplus of moral fibre, but rather from sheer lack of super charged mitochondria, the latter having depleted all in the barely controlled chaos of the last twelve hours...
As I drive up the ramp onto the motorway, my hand slips off the gearknob to find a long lost companion, delicately turned fingers lace through mine for all of thirty seconds before one of them (not sure which and don't really care) starts afresh in the backseat, demanding the attention of it's more attractive parent...
My romantic interlude over, I am alone again as I focus on the road ahead, direct my frustrations at the lorry in the slow lane and prepare myself for another day of pure unadulterated fun!
