We will need an­other break af­ter plan­ning our fam­ily’s first for­eign hol­i­day


Llanelli Star - - FAMILY MATTERS - Richard IRVINE

“AS long as I have my credit card, we can buy what we need over there,” I explained in a gen­tle man­ner to Vic­to­ria.

“What? Body­suits? Sleep­ing bags?,” she an­swered a lit­tle ag­gres­sively.

“Yes, Span­ish chil­dren sleep and wear clothes too,” I said adding fuel to the fire.

“You can’t af­ford to,” she snorted, shoot­ing my grandiose of­fer of un­lim­ited pur­chas­ing power down in flames.

The rea­son for to­day’s heated dis­cus­sion was our up­com­ing hol­i­day to Spain.

We’d de­cided to forgo trekking across the Ama­zon basin in favour of a nice villa filled with rel­a­tives, which is close to shops, med­i­cal fa­cil­i­ties and paella.

Un­for­tu­nately, it was go­ing to be hot and we were wor­ried the twins would suf­fer.

Now, I was born amidst those scorch­ing sum­mers of the 1970s, back when we didn’t know ev­ery­thing was dan­ger­ous or de­stroy­ing the en­vi­ron­ment.

Any pic­tures of me in the seven­ties show a lovely tanned baby with skin the colour of ma­hogany, very much like a younger less flam­boy­ant David Dick­in­son.

Even though I’ve ar­gued a nicely tanned baby is cuter, Vic­to­ria has de­creed the twins are to be shrouded in Fac­tor 50, UVA re­flec­tive cloth­ing and big hats to pre­vent the sun so much as glanc­ing upon them.

The son has got his hat on ...and a full bot­tle of fac­tor 50

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