The Longest Day

Tidying, packing, driving, driving, terrifying motorways merging and diverging moment that nearly had me in Valencia rather than Barcelona, driving, plane to Newcastle, driving, driving, driving, shopping in Sheffield, driving, driving, driving, asking man in van for directions, driving, asking policeman for directions, driving, shower...... and relax.

Most tedious moment of the day was arriving back at the car in Newcastle, laughing much with the kids about how we'd been away so long that a spider had made its home in the driving seat, then turning the ignition to a deafening silence rather than a reassuring roar. Once again, the '8 days in an airport carpark' curse had struck.

Happily, Dad and Mam were waiting in a garden centre 2 minutes drive away. Even more happily they were in Dad's big truck rather than Mam's little car. So after a quick cry for help, he was there to rescue me. After a lot of revving and charging, we were off again. Mam even commented on how slim I was looking, which helped my mood no end. Swapped the kids happily for my birthday present (a very cute 35mm prime lens) and headed south for the wedding in Sheffield. My plan had been to stop in a shopping centre quite close to the airport to pick up a salad for dinner and a few bits I needed in M&S. To charge the car battery I needed to keep going for longer though - so didn't stop until after Leeds. By then my needs for petrol and a bathroom far outweighed any concerns about having to trouble the AA and happily all was well.

Stopped in a huge mall type thing in Sheffield for some shopping (mostly full of folk taking their kids out for a nice evening running up and down the mall) then off for a slightly longer drive than necessary around the high and lowlights of Sheffield (until the lovely policeman set me on the right track) before finally getting to the hotel, meeting up with others and seeing off some lovely fizzy wine.

Dads have a lot to live up to really. All mums have to do is give out hugs and occasional compliments that mean more than anyone else's, oh and do the talk about periods. Dads on the other hand are forever the source of rescue, however old the child. I'm sure I'll get in terrible trouble from some of my friends for that kind of stereotyping. But they haven't met my Dad.