In addition to the new character of Spidergirl (who has web browsers instead of web shooters, and no common spider-sense), there's also her diminutive sidekick, Spiderboy, who's difficult to photograph as he darts across the web at high speed...
There are no flies on him. Although it's possible he's got nits.
Anyhoo, yesterday was a very strange Bank Holiday Monday. We'd intended to take the kids for a run across East Brighton Park in the morning, but Amelie woke up at the crack of dawn complaining that she felt unwell, and Toby seemed out of sorts too. Amelie's symptoms were a little on the vague side, and included pretty much every condition she's seen covered by Dr Ranj on 'Get Well Soon', while her brother spent the morning stomping around with constant non-specific moaning. Neither of them seemed quite right, but both were still capable of jumping, climbing, shouting and meddling, so we gave Amelie one dose of Calpol, and kept the sympathy to a minimum.
I didn't think anything of it until lunchtime, when I started developing stomach pains. And not just from lack of food. I took to my bed while Toby had his nap, but whereas he was sleeping, I was doing some work on my laptop, and popping Bisodol tablets like bubble-wrap.
By 2pm I was still in pain, but being a veritable trooper who puts a brave face on his eternal suffering and torment, I agreed to take my family over to Hove. They'd combined their considerable talents to successfully break my Sellotape dispenser, so I wanted to buy another one from Staples, and insisted they come with me to witness the look of resentment and destitution on my face (and the bravery I mentioned earlier) as I handed over my credit card.
With that done, and the family finances reduced to a collection of loose change in my pocket, I decided to feed that money into a parking meter down the road, and take my family to St Ann's Well Gardens...
That's Amelie being ill at the top of a slide. To be honest, there didn't appear to be anything wrong with her by then, and frankly anyone who can do the splits, one-handed, in mid-air, can't be in a bad state of health...
At least, not until afterwards. You probably won't notice Lisa in that photo, as she's wearing camouflage gear, but what you will see is her new owl bag. She bought it the week before last, and was particularly pleased to have such a rare and unusual accessory. Until I did a clinic the following day and one of my patients came in carrying one.
But whilst Lisa might share her tastes with a pensioner, the only person who felt close to death yesterday was me. Until we'd been at the park for an hour, that is. By that time, Amelie had perked right up, Toby was running wild like a stampeding elephant, and I was suffering in silence. Apart from the numerous times I belly-ached about my nausea.
At which point Lisa suddenly started getting shooting pains in her stomach. I was busy photographing my daughter with a questionable-looking wood carving at the time...
... but within five minutes, Lisa's symptoms had developed to such an extent that we had to abandon the park (and all hope), and head straight back home at high speed, where she ducked into the bathroom and then collapsed on the bed.
Oddly, by early evening, my stomach ache had passed, and by late evening, Lisa was fine too. We'd all eaten different things that day, so it can't have been food poisoning, but rather than a 24-hour bug, we seemed to have all suffered from a 4-hour bug. It was typified by gut-wrenching feelings of discomfort, so I expect we're all missing the tadpole.
1 comments:
I blame it on the tadpole, combined with the ice creams dipped in sand on Saturday (you have no idea what might have been in that sand!)
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