Summer = Over

Summer = Over

And so, September comes and the ducklings are back at school.

Quiet reigns at Scaryduck Towers, for at least six hours a day. It's just a shame, then, that I'm at work and don't reap the benefit. Perhaps I should have copied the example of my parents.

Every summer it became a family tradition that we would be sent to my grandparents' house in Essex for a couple of weeks, where we'd go for endless trips to the beach, the woods and a horrible concrete shopping centre in Laindon. Excellent, it was, and the highlight of any year.

I didn't realise until I had kids of my own that this was so that my parents could get shot of three little sods for a fortnight*.

God, I've been slow to learn.

This, then, is a family tradition that I am keen to start once again. Cornwall sounds good. Dad?

* Almost certainly not true, but I wouldn't blame them.

Also: I can't believe I posted an unbelievably harsh and rather selfish post here. Edited somewhat, then. Think before you blog, boy.

Greetings to BBC Online readers. Yes, it's always like this here.