It involves The Poop, and consequently, it involves us venturing abroad for the first time as New Parents On Holiday.
But come on. This is Tenerife. It's all about the chill. I've been 307 times before. I know the place like the back of my hand. And when it comes to relaxing, it always delivers.
So we have a toddler in tow. Big wow. Hundreds of people do it all the time. She's just one, tiny extra person. How different a holiday can it really be, right?
Well, WE HAVEN'T EVEN LEFT OUR HOUSE YET, and I have my concerns. I dunno, maybe I'm being over sensitive, but, honestly now, does this picture scream relaxation to you?
No? What about this one?
So it isn't just me then.
As I type, Dave and I, or 'New Parents On Holiday' as we shall be known for the next week, are currently planning an event called Operation: Feeding Betty In the Airport. This planning thus far has involved consultation with various government sponsored websites, documents and sources which detail sanctioned volumes of substances and liquids which immigration officials permit use of in the vicinity of any form of aircraft, and has now enabled us, as New Parents On Holiday, to fuss about the ability of baby food to spill/burst/spray/ooze/spontaneously combust in the minibus on the way to the airport.
Our paired attentions will then turn to Operation: Keeping Betty Quiet On The Plane, Operation: Securing Betty In A Foreign Taxi, Operation: Why Doesn't The Apartment Have A Cot It Said It Would In The Brochure...
Like I said, a week of relaxation.
Fortunately, all that time Dave wasted serving as a Royal Marine Commando is about to be put to good use. We are a team.
We are New Parents On Holiday.
And we will survive this week.