We were ambling around the exhibitions not really taking much notice as we've all been there dozens of times before. Mrs B and I were idly chatting whilst pushing Missy in her buggy and the boys were lagging a little behind but still within range. We stood waiting for them to finish mucking about and thought we were directly in view of the only exit but being the worry warts that they are (seriously they are worse than old women) they decided to panic that we weren't still in the exhibition room and that we must have abandoned them so they latched onto some poor unsuspecting woman whom I assumed advised them to seek assistance at the front desk.
We spotted the concerned woman talking to them and our immediate reaction was that one of them had 'done something' and that she was telling them off, little did we know that we were about to receive a telling off of our very own, not from the woman but from our sons!
'Where have you been?' 'We've been worried about you!' You shouldn't go wandering off like that, anything could have happened!'
It was as if Mrs B and I were the children and our boys were the ones with parental responsibility. I now know how Ellen Andrews in Freaky Friday felt when she switched places with her daughter Annabel!
The boys were really angry with us, but Mrs B and I could only snigger like the naughty children we had been cast as. I said that we'd probably psychologically damaged them and we laughed all over again.
When I returned home a little later I remembered a book that my sister and I used to talk about called 'They F*** You Up - How To Survive Family Life' by Oliver James. The title of which I assume comes from the Philip Larkin poem 'This Be The Verse'