“It’s going to be in the 30’s tomorrow, why don’t we head to the beach?” suggested my wife enthusiastically. ‘What a great idea’ I thought with visions of merry sandcastle building and frolicking in the sea.

So the next morning we began getting things ready for a day out by the seaside. Harper and Ollie were clearly excited. Harper was packing a gift bag from a recent present full of detritus that she wanted to take with her. The contents included a popped Bunnings balloon, a couple of clothes pegs and a cup from a toy tea set. Beach essentials. Meanwhile Kath and I started packing bags, chopping up fruit, making sandwiches, applying sun cream, getting bottles ready, finding hats, beach tents etc. Took ages even with Playschool and the Twirlywoos taking Harper and Ollie out of action for a period of time. We were eventually ready, with our pile of bags, equipment and supplies resembling that of an arctic expedition rather than a couple of hours at the local beach.

After a car ride long enough to listen to the whole of the fucking Emma Wiggle CD we arrived at the beach. It looked amazing, azure colored sea lapping at a fairly pristine and relatively secluded shore. I wrestled with the beach tent and won without uttering a swear word. Both Harper and Ollie seemed perturbed by the amount of sand everywhere but quickly got over it. We tucked into some sandwiches and all was well. Briefly.

Ollie was the first to tantrum, as a result of dropping his banana in the sand. Then both displayed a quite dramatic fear of the sea. Coaxing them to paddle in the water both Harper and Ollie were hysterical when the water touched their toes. Despite trying to allay their fears all they were happy with was me carrying them both as I continually waded back and forth from the beach into the water. Heaven forbid if the water touched their toes.

After a few trips on daddy, Ollie decided he’d had enough of our family. He kept trotting along the beach and sitting with other people. Quite sweet until both Harper and Ollie approached a young couple sunbathing. Kath went to retrieve them but was not quick enough to stop Ollie repeatedly slapping the sunbathing woman’s bottom. If this wasn’t embarrassing enough it was made worse by each slap being accompanied by Ollie shouting ‘big bottom slap slap’. Kath apologized profusely and thankfully the victim of Ollie’s indecent assault had a sense of humor.

I next tried building sandcastles which provided moderate entertainment. However I struck gold when I dug a hole. Not literally obviously but in the sense that I found a way to keep them happy, quiet and within arms reach for a little while. The old trick of burying legs and then building pretend ones out of sand. They loved it and couldn’t move, win win.

We eventually decided that we should get our 4 month old (Sophie) home so began decamping with multiple trips to the car. At this point, Harper had a code brown so we left the beach clutching our arctic paraphernalia and pair of Peppa Pig undies covered in poo.

All in all, not quite the idyllic vision we had for the day but an experience nonetheless. The poor woman with the slapped arse is probably thinking the same thing.