So, I’ve been thinking about this holiday lark. More specifically, the glorious things we promise ourselves in the pursuit of relaxation nirvana. If you’re anything like me you make a list of all the yummy attributes that will pepper your annual vacation to make it The Best Ever. But (I’ve discovered to my eternal disappointment) it’s all lies. Here’s how:
1) I will get down to x ideal weight by holiday
As long as there is a quick weight loss diet that contains crisps, biscuits and wine
2) I will maintain my ideal weight whilst on holiday
As long as I can keep on consuming crisps, biscuits and wine
3) I will have buckets of relaxed, holiday sex with my husband/partner
Once the children have gone to bed, because I feel particularly horny in a two man tent/sweaty hotel bedroom shared with small people at 1am after three pints of sangria
4) I won’t overdo the sunbathing
Because pale and interesting does it for me. In a bikini
5) I will make sure the children wear hats
Because little people are so compliant with these things on holiday, right? Even though they think nothing of chucking headgear into the nearest patch of cow poo whilst at home
6) I will not eat my own body weight in ice cream. Every night
Because I’ve never been tempted to consider ice cream a whole, more than adequately nutritional, healthy food group of its own
7) I will go for a run every morning before the children are up
Languishing in bed as the children sleep off a night of karaoke/conga excitement when you get half a chance is wholly overrated anyway
8) I will read a range of interesting, intellectual books whilst I’m away
Trashy, easy-to-read chick lit has never been my thing, even when ten minutes at a time is all I get between demands for entertainment or pool poo nappy changes
9) I won’t drink wine *every* night
It’s not like I do it at home, so why would I do it on holiday?!?
10) I will not allow myself to be school-girlishly flattered by waiters/bartenders/blind street beggars
I learned my lesson from Shirley Valentine obvs