The sound of bad parenting…

27 07 2012

It was a beautiful evening last night.

We took full advantage.

Wagamama was called and an order placed.

JJ was plonked into his stroller.

We nipped to the nearest shop and picked up a few mixed berry ciders (living life on the edge).

Our noodles were duly picked up and we made our way to the grounds of the St Alban’s Cathedral.

En route, we walked over a cobbled path.

Our evening’s refreshment chinked away in the pram’s basket.

“That’s the sound of bad parenting,” said Abi.

Made me chuckle.

But it didn’t stop me having my cider while a muslin was gently placed over JJ’s pram to encourage a nap.

It probably hid his shame.

“I Can’t believe Daddy is drinking pink cider.”

That’s what lazy evenings in the summer are all about.

And it was one of those evenings that you just did not want to end.

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