Week 12: Greetings from Swanage

Type of writing: Holiday postcard.


Dear Readers,

What a time I’ve been having on this my first holiday.

As far as I can tell, a holiday is where you go for a rest, but end up feeling more tired than you did at home.

Today I went down on something called a beach. A beach is a yellow floor that you can carry around with you. I took some home in my hair, eyes, elbows, hands, toes and bum. It sticks so much I’ll probably be wearing it tomorrow too.

I also went in a place called the sea. The sea is a bath with no sides. It also goes up and down, making a pshhhhhh sound.

Normally, my mum and dad are quick about putting me in the water, but today they were slower. Dad carried me down to the water’s edge and mum had her camera. 

Them having a camera made me remember the early days when they used to take a picture of me in the bath – they don’t do that any more, so I wondered why they were doing it here. 

My feet soon discovered why. 

This sea thing isn’t run by your mum and dad – they can’t decide the temperature of it. It’s run by – well, I don’t know who it’s run by, but someone needs to have a word with the person in charge of the taps because it is FREEZING. 

I was very brave though and stood there and took it like an 11 week-old. My mum and dad were so excited that they kissed my face all over. I couldn’t see what all the fuss is about.

Tonight, I’m sleeping in a cot that looks the size of a Gruffalo. I’m slightly worried it’s going to swallow this little mouse up. I guess I overcame the sea, so I’ll just have to survive this sleeping nonsense.

Tomorrow, my uncle is coming on the chuffa chuffa choo choo. I haven’t been on a train yet, but my grandma says I’ll see a steam one at the station tomorrow.

At the end of the week, my grandma and grandpa are coming. So all my family will be here. I can’t help think it would have been better if we just met at my house; it would have been a shorter journey for everyone. Seems silly to travel a million miles to see me when they could just go on that one whoosh road to ours. My dad says it’s because they want to see me in the sea; I thought, ‘I’d rather they come and watch me in the bath; it’s warmer there and I’ve a duck for company.’

Anyway, I best try and get some rest now. God knows how I’m going to sleep in this thing. If you don’t hear from me in the next week, then Reader please raise the alarm, organise a search party, say, ‘He was last seen entering the wild of a travel cot. We heard he took no map, compass or provisions with him. He hasn't been heard for days. We fear the worst.’ 

Well, I hope it’s a goodnight rather than a goodbye.

Until next week,
Kit

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