Day 2 actually started quite a bit earlier than expected, as Wump woke up at about 03:00am and decided it was time to open her Christmas presents.
This is pretty much traditional in Australia, so we allowed it. Wump then agreed to go back to bed but was nevertheless wide awake by 05:00am due to jetlag. I was also awake by that stage – and, more importantly, the sun was up and the birds were all shrieking and laughing outside the bedroom door – so I agreed to go for a morning walk with her.
We took a nice stroll around the block and saw, by Wump’s fairly accurate count, thirteen kangaroos. So that was exciting.
After breakfast, the temperature started climbing and we went for our first visit to the beach. I got immediately sunburned in the one or two places I had neglected to put suncream, most notably my collarbones and the tops of my feet. I would, not to spoil this, be peeling by Day 4. I don’t know how common peeling is elsewhere in the world, but in Australia it’s practically a tradition. Like skin cancer.
Still, the beach was lovely. Wump was game even though she still didn’t like the saltiness. Toop, offended by the lack of heating in the water, was content to lie in the sand and splash in the shallows.
That was about all that happened on Day 2, and I’m out of time for today anyway. So there you are.
I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends.
Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages?
I am Hatboy.
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That sounds like my kind of day. Yes, even the waking up early and (presumably) walking around like a zombie while the girls are being adorabubble.
Absolutely. It was brilliant.