We're in Christchurch, having a few days of holiday in my Mum's house while she's on holiday in Wellington. Today we went to Sumner and Sweeney ran along the beach for ages, paddled up to his crotch in the receding tide, and threw sticks for dogs. Bliss.
Although I'm concerned to report that even though he was utterly slathered in sunscreen, his back and chest are a little pink this evening. I forgot his rash top when I was packing, and he was so excited about wearing his togs today that he refused to wear his t-shirt until we were on our way back to the car.
Anyhoo, he had a great time. We had an ice cream with Grandad, came back to the house and he had a bath and a nap.
In other news, the nap has stood him in good stead to still be awake at nearly 11pm. Oh, hurrah.
I like how going away can make you hanker to be at home again, you think of nice things around the house that need doing, or terrible things that you finally feel like tackling. Yes, that's right. I can't wait to get home to scrub around the bath plughole with a toothbrush.