Apparently, my poker face needs some work.
Tracey is in two minds about me sharing this little window into our life. She worries it might show us in a poor light.
Which, of course, makes me wonder…has she never read our blog?
“Cuppa tea?” I asked my wife last night, and she indicated she’d love one.
“What just happened?” Miss14 asked suspiciously from the front of the bus.
“Nothing,” said Tracey.
I attempted to walk as casually as I could to the kettle. I was trying my hardest to be all nonchalant and nothing-to-see-here, but on the inside I was freakin’ the eff out.
They can’t take this away from me! I thought to myself.
I won’t let them!
We’ve been living on the bus with the kids for over a year now and there are weeks when this is all I’ve got to see me through.
“Did you,” Miss14 went on, “just flash your boobs at Dad?”
It’s incredible to me I can yell the names of my kids from two meters away and they can’t hear me, but a quietly spoken sentence like this can grab their collective attention immediately.
“What,” Tracey asked weakly as five sets of eyes squinted accusingly at her, “makes you say that?”
I mean it’s not like Tracey ripped her top up at the dinner table. She was sitting at her computer and I was between her and all of the kids, who were supposed to be focusing on their iPads and iPods and iPhones because that’s what they always do if we don’t stop them.
“His face,” said Miss14, pointing an accusatory finger at me while still looking at her mother. “He’s got that stupid grin on it.”
Yes I did have an appreciative expression on my dial, goddammit.
And let me lay my cards on the table: if my kids attempt to stand between me and that grin no one on this bus is going to get near their electronics again.
Or an occasionally lovingly made cup of tea.
Just sayin’, Tracey.
And your boobies.
On that note…would you like another cuppa? Maybe? Please?
We found this place by accident. Don’t you do the same. Seek it out. It’s free and it’s amazing. From watching a light dance across the central stone in a mock service like they hold on Remembrance Day to the view from the balcony above to the Crypt underneath, this place is worth making an effort to see. We’ve seen it and we will go back again to spend more time reading the stories on the walls downstairs. The only odd thing about it was the story of how it came to be a thing. Money was raised from the public during the Great Depression. No government money was used for its construction. Afterwards, the kids wanted to know what the Great Depression was and then why people were putting money into this instead of feeding struggling families. I wondered the same thing. Is very nice though.
Crap video of….the crypt. Sent this to my son, Geoffrey (Master26), because it is the most Dungeons and Dragons place I’ve even walked through.
This place! Wow. A heap of artists have come together to create some awesome Instagram and profile picture opportunities for Melbourners, and tourists lucky enough to stumble across it. Room after room of paintings you can literally slip yourself into. And it goes on and on. We were stepping into the fourth room, which I think was my pet peeve Australiana, and thinking we were nearly finished. Not even close. I’d love to tell you what my favourite painting was, but I can’t even narrow it down to three. The wings? The Indiana Jones stuff? The Egyptian area? The jungle? It was all so good. We went with friends who’ve been several times and I get the attraction – I’ve already Googled inappropriate things to do with the different artworks and I’m mad keen to go back. Although, truth be told, I did my best at disgusting my family in the short time I had. Because of course I did.
Raising a family on little more than laughs
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