The separated Household made our annual Sydney Royal Easter Show pilgrimage on Saturday.
The eldest was rousted out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8am and we pootled over to Homebush for a little bit of country in the city.
A fun time was had by all, even the eldest … once she found a shop selling 1001 black band T-shirts and settled on a Green Day “American Idiot” one to spend her Easter money from Nonna and Pop on … oh and a rainbow belt … Although, when we thanked her for coming along she muttered: “Well, I wasn’t given a choice.”
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
We kicked off our annual Easter Show visit with a twirl around the Dog Pavilion. I LOVE the Dog Pavilion. I spend the whole time squealing like an excited five-year-old over all the big and small fluffy things.
I managed to dodge our next stop – the wood chopping arena – after belatedly realising the highly-allergic-to-cows-and-horses youngest should have taken a Clarityne before going to the Show. We popped off to the chemist while the eldest suffered through three axe rounds with her dad.
What is it with dads and woodchopping? My friend Emily went to the Show the day before us and texted: “My girls always love a day at the show (except when Glen makes them watch the woodchopping semi finals).”
After escaping the woodchopping, we headed to the main arena to watch my ex’s cousin and his fiancee showjumping. My ex’s cousin is an Australian Showjumping Champion, go him! We gasped and applauded the action for an hour or so before hoofing to the farm animal petting section.
The farm animal petting section is BULK fun and one of my favourite-ist bits … so long I don’t think too much about how draining it must be for the animals to be chased by toddlers for 14 days straight.
I was having the most heavenly time letting a deer eat my cap while I took photos of him when I got a text to say the rest of the clan were tapping their feet outside the area waiting for me.
Bummer. I only got the most cursor gawp at the baby ducklings and chicks before I had to hand sanitise and go.
Then we were off to one of my other favourite-ist bits: the chook pavilion. Oh, how I adore the chook pavilion! The girls and I agreed we really needed another chook flock in our backyard lives. Maybe in the spring … after I win the lottery.
Then it was time for tea and scones at a trestle table in the CWA cafe.
It was a little unsettling to have old couples on either side of us smiled dotingly as we ate our scones. I couldn’t decide what they were doting about. Was it the chirpy 11-year-old? Was it the brooding teen who’d come along with her mum and dad to the Show? Was it the happy family unit we appeared to be? Well, we are happy, and a family, but you know what I mean.
No idea, by my ex joked afterwards that they’d have been shocked if they knew our situation.
Much retail therapy followed as my ex loaded up on showbags from the Woolworths dome (he LOVES the foodie ones like the Superfood Ideas and MKR bag … I passed, my pantry moths have enough to nibble on), the eldest agonised for an eternity over the aforementioned black T-shirt from the band stall and we trudged backwards and forwards with the youngest as she searched for the perfect plastic bag of show crap to spend her grandparents’ money on in the Showbag Pavilion.
She settled on a surprisingly sensible one featuring a striped T-shirt dress, sunnies, choker and fluffy thing to hang on her school bag. She also cheerily announced that spending an hour trawling the Showbag Pavilion for the perfect plastic bag of show crap was her favourite part of the whole day.
Finally, we braved the rides area … not to take anything for a spin, but so the youngest could blow a bit more of Nonna and Pop’s Easter dosh on a sideshow alley game. She swore off the clowns because she’s finally realised the prizes are rubbish, but remains under the delusion that the other games might offer better value. Tip from me: the ring toss might seem like value because you get a whole bucket of rings to throw at the milk bottles, but you will NEVER land one on a bottle. EVER.
Then we sauntered happily out the exit and headed to our separate homes.
Another Show over. I’m grateful we can give the kids these times together as a family. Hopefully they’ll look back and understand just how precious those visits were. Although I’m not quite sure how it’ll roll next year when the ex is living with SSF … and the eldest is even more embarrassed about being seen with her parents.
Anyways, here are a few happy snaps (and lots of chook snaps):
Song of the day: Montell Jordan “This is how we do it”