The first annual beach hut conker championships was held last night, good times.
The first rule of conker club, there are no rules. The second rule, no sulking if dad smashes your conker. Somethings never change though... did you ever have to give up your cornet because a wobbly toddler let his ice cream splat to the pavement? Same principle applies when your hulking teenager demands a rematch, I'd shined mine with pledge and used turquoise string too...oh, well.
We've had some great game nights here. I love cards, scrabble, monopoly and cluedo, the list goes on and on. We have a games cupboard that is crammed to bursting and there's always room for another op shop jigsaw, even if it's missing a piece. Our best games though are usually spontaneous events...guess the ankle, walk the plank, fish flapping, get dressed for chocolate (that last one's not kinky, it just involves putting on a hat, scarf, gloves and goggles before you devour a chocolate bar using a fork and spoon). We've even been known to engage in thumb wars, arm wrestling and who can sing the loudest. Admittedly, that last one only really gets going once the Port comes out at Christmas.
I'm off now to ice my Easter Egg cookies, I'lll pop in a photo later.