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Tuesday, May 25, 2010

It's a well known fact that if you've got a brain the size of a planet, you'll end up revolving around the sun...

I think the second ride was more her cup of tea.

That was Thursday at the Burnham-on-Sea Holiday Village. We'd actually taken Amelie to the 'Little Cubs' play session, but as it turned out, it wasn't much more than a bit of colouring-in on the carpet of the Mash & Barrel restaurant. The 'Fun Star' (that's a Red Coat to you and me) who took the session was a lovely young girl who kept apologising that she didn't really know what to do because she usually does 'Nature Detectives', not 'Little Cubs', and has only worked there for three months. I told her not to worry. The leader of 'Little Cubs' only needs to know the bear necessities.

We left the bear pit after half an hour with a ghost made out of a handkerchief, and a couple of stolen crayons (which we forced Amelie to return later, shortly after she drew on the walls of the caravan), and headed next door to the amusements. Amelie seemed to think she was at Alton Towers, and frankly with the amount of money I had to fork out on rides, she might as well have been.

Penniless and dizzy, we then headed to the beach for the traditional seaside holiday experience...

Dig For Victory
Judging by the amount of people there, we'd either been successful in our attempts to avoid the school holidays, or we'd arrived just after a bomb scare. I decided to let Amelie do some digging to find out which. Fortunately she survived, so I expect everyone else was at Heathrow, waiting for the ash to clear.

I helped Amelie build her first sandcastle, then sat back as she carefully demolished it one grain at a time, and attempted to put it all back in the bucket. That took her about half an hour. In the meantime, I looked across the water and told Lisa I could see Wales, which led to a confusing couple of minutes as she tried to spot large aquatic mammals off the Somerset coast.

The most momentous aspect of our trip to the seaside, however, was our discovery that at the age of nineteen months, Amelie can already count to ten. And we haven't even tried to teach her. Video evidence of this feat is so far eluding me, but whilst running across the beach towards the sinking sand on Thursday, Amelie started shouting out numbers (possibly counting down to the bomb going off). At first I thought I was hearing things, but on about four or five (she could tell you herself) occasions since, she's successfully counted, in order, all the way up to ten. Usually when my video camera's out of reach. She must have learnt it by watching me every day as I count how many biscuits she eats before breakfast.

With maths mastered, I decided to see if she could write her name as well, but it wasn't a complete success...

The writing's on the wall. Well, the beach.
I wanted it in joined up letters.