Wetsuits, Ice Creams, Fish & Chips and the F-Word

I had a surprisingly lovely afternoon with my mum yesterday. She had the afternoon off work, and so we drove down to the quay to try and sort me out with a new wetsuit, ready for our family holiday in a couple of weeks. Normally, buying wetsuits – and just wetsuits in general – involves spending a hideous length of time trying to find one that fits, and then trying to get it on smoothly. In short, we all hate wetsuit shopping.

Due to our fairly negative previous wetsuit experiences, neither of us were particularly looking forward to this shopping expedition. Dreading it, I think would be fair to say. However, we were both pleasantly surprised! We quickly found two potential wetsuits, and when I tried them both on one clearly fitted better than the other. They were both dead easy to get on and off, and felt great to wear – I actually told my mum I hadn’t realised wetsuits could be so comfortable!

After that successful outing, we decided to go for a wander around the quay, which was lovely. We had a poke around a couple of the shops, and stopped to get a packet of strawberry bonbons (my mum, sister and I always used to share these, a tradition cut short a few years ago by the introduction of braces first to my sister, then me) and some ice cream – Mum had a Feast and I had a Magnum Pink Raspberry which, BTW, was incredible. 100% recommend, it was a great choice for my first (kinda) proper ice cream of the summer!

ice cream

This wasn’t the actual ice cream from yesterday, but it’s pink and from my Instagram account so it’ll do! (Words to live by, they are…)

We then took a trip into town to replace my falling-apart school shoes, which also went surprisingly smoothly. In the evening, we dropped my sister off at her cricket training and then went to a nearby pub to get something to eat (I choose some rather yummy fish and chips). But where does the F-word come in, I hear you ask?

Well, that’s a funny one. The table next to us in the pub garden-y bit was populated my five or six probably twenty-somethings, who didn’t appear to be very happy with where they were working. They also punctuated every second word with ‘f—ing’. Rough examples:

“I can sell f***** ice to the f***** eskimos but I won’t work for f****** Lee”

“He treats his staff like f******** children”

“I hate f****** Jagerbombs, they make me throw up” (but this particular girl doesn’t mind Sambucca, so don’t worry)

THIS WAS SO FUNNY. My mum and I just looked at each other and quietly sniggered, and then as soon as my sister got in the car after cricket, we started imitating them. It was hilarious. We mimicked them to my dad as well, his face was just so confused it was fantastic.

Ahh, lol. (I was actually lol-ing, so that’s an acceptable use of it).

What’ve you been up to lately?



9 thoughts on “Wetsuits, Ice Creams, Fish & Chips and the F-Word

  1. someoneuseless says:

    That actually sounds like a fun day. But, quite unfortunately, my daily tea overdoses since the age of eleven have not yet transformed me, or my voice, into something acceptably British, so what’s ‘the quay’?


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