The other day the Boy asked me what a mortgage is. After ten minutes of trying to explain it to him there was a long pause and he said;
"Right. I think I get it. It's like a unicycle."
I think this adequately displays why I didn't pursue a career in teaching. The point of this conversation is that we're selling our house. Due to the careful efficiency of my Wife's accounting and the... er... fact that I work, we've found ourselves in a position where we can buy a bigger house. Clearly this is a good thing, bigger house, better location, closer to the Boy's school and the faint possibility that if our next door neighbours decide to have sex, regardless the volume or gusto we won't be able to work out what position they're in. Or who finishes first.
However, it is tinged with sadness. When we moved into this house, there wasn't a recession. In fact, the price of houses crashed THE MONTH AFTER WE BOUGHT THE HOUSE. We moved in with a very small Boy, and a pregnant Wife. The Girl was actually born in this house. On the Wife's side of the bed. Intentionally, I should add.
This was the house where the Boy learnt to speak, to our lingering regret. This is where the Girl learnt to the throw tantrums, how to aim a punch to the genitals, and how to insert spoons into cat rectums.
The Boy has not taken this lightly, and we've had a few fits of crying because;
"I'm going to miss my bedroom."
Not the first time the Boy has forged an emotional link with an inanimate object. Last time it was his bed. Which he still talks about like it betrayed him. So in an effort to cheer us all up, we went to Colchester Zoo. Since it's March, getting out in the spring air seemed like a good idea.
It was freaking freezing. Only the penguins and sea lions seemed happy. The non-sea-lions looked really pissed off. Especially when I managed to catch the reflection of my hat in the picture I took of them.
|Send us victorious|
Most of the animals had vanished to the back of their enclosures. At one point we were standing by the sun bear enclosure when one of the bears wandered to the doorway, stepped out, clearly thought the words "Screw this" and high tailed it back out. We went from one empty enclosure to the next and every time we went outside it was like being dipped in liquid nitrogen.
|No you don't.|
The Kid's loved it. The only disappointment for the Boy was that he didn't get to see the rhino urinate (which, I'll admit, is always impressive to watch). Despite the cold, the wind and complete absence of any animals at the zoo, they had a lovely time. And then a duck got raped, and ruined everything.
We were walking past the duck pond when three ducks, two males and a female, flew out of a hedge. One of the males grabbed the female by the beak and held her down whilst the other one had his happy town. The Boy and Girl watched silently for a minute, whilst the Wife and I tried to hustle them along.
"What are they doing?"
The Boy asked.
"They're playing motorbikes. The one at the back is trying to kick-start the other one."
I replied. The Girl mulled this over, nodded and said;