The perfect Sunday?

In the morning it rained, rained, then rained some more. Garden nicely soaked, and even the bits of the back lawn that have been bare are (touch wood) starting to grow back.

It conveniently stopped just before 11, when I had to go out.

The kids and I strolled down to the shops, bought fruit and bagels that were so fresh the Glicks lady advised us to leave the bag open at the top.

We mucked around with the computers and played video games. I finally won that tricky race in PGR2.

We ate those fresh bagels for lunch.

We played some more video games.

For some exercise we got the bikes out for a short ride down to (and around) the park. Jeremy has now truly mastered two-wheeled riding, and was so enthusiastic he did eleven laps of the oval.

We all sat and watched an episode of Doctor Who together. With Daleks in it.

I walked the kids back to their mum’s place and marvelled at the spectacular orange in the western sky.

In the supermarket, half the customers were singing and/or dancing along to American Pie (it’s a clichéd classic hit, but undeniably catchy), I didn’t have to queue at all at the checkout, and the checkout chick may have worked out I was carrying the shopping home, and actually swapped things around in my two green bags so they balanced. Or maybe she was just putting all the cold stuff together.

If it hadn’t been for the Cats losing, the general poor quality of my footy tipping, and me losing my temper at one point due to a computer playing up, it might have been the perfect Sunday; we could all do with more of these kinds of days.

(Marita might beg to differ, having spent much of the day writing an essay.)