Hector decided Father’s Day should start at six o’clock, so I quickly swept him out of the bedroom to let the father have his promised lie-in and off we went to make something special for breakfast. Oh, how I wish I had had an extra hour in bed! The idea was that we would make heart-shaped scones ‘because that’s what Daddy and I made for you on Mother’s Day’, but I thought I didn’t have some of the ingredients so decided to give croissants a go and then brioche. We weighed everything out then realised we needed to leave it all overnight and we didn’t have butter, only ‘butterly’ and I think brioche really does need full-fat, full-cholesterol-raising butter, so it was back to the recipe books, where I found a scone recipe that we did have the ingredients for. Phewee!
Once we had given Edward a respectable lie-in (I couldn’t hold Hector back any longer) we went up and presented him with his bike card and lots of hugs. The scones were ok, but I prefer the ones that get made while I enjoy my annual lie-in, then it was off to the Serpentine to check out the new pavilion.
We realised this must be Hector’s sixth Serpentine pavilion (sorry, that sounds a bit poncy) and he soon let his opinions be known: ‘I hate it’. This didn’t last long and he soon jumped around and explored inside, and realised he actually loved it, though his favourite is ‘the red one’.
I thought I liked it, and found it to have an interesting smell, something like incense, until Edward said ‘It feels like a club’, then it took on a completely different feel, like that post-dancing, early hours, almost time to go home end of a club night thing. I don’t think the giant champagne corks helped.
Following our exploration of the space, we sat on the grass and enjoyed our picnic, then Edward pointed out some people on the roof of the gallery. I looked round and noticed that one was none other than Yoko Ono, possibly checking how her install was going.
A trip to Kensington Gardens is not complete without a trip to the Princess Diana Memorial Playground (in Hector’s eyes), so off we headed. I know it gets busy there, but we’ve never had to queue before. When we got in I noticed just how many Dads had been taken there for Father’s Day, all looking slightly bored and no doubt wishing the cafe served ice cool beer.
And, just for Travelling Hopefully, here are some signets for her treasure hunt:
Oh, and no, I haven’t been for a run. What with all that running around after an-almost-five-year-old then getting kicked off the tube on the way home (due to planned engineering works, not anti-social behaviour) then having to walk across town to get back to Charing Cross, then eating a big Father’s Day steak and drinking wine, I really didn’t feel like it. Yes, I know it’s not in the spirit of Juneathon, but I’m truly knackered and don’t want to spoil a delicious dinner by jigging it up and down for the sake of a mile.
I promise I will make up for it tomorrow.