Ice cream in Saint Chinian

We bargained with Satan and his Cohorts.
No fighting about who-sits-where-in-the-car, and we might go for an ice cream.
(Read:  BEER, for the discerning reader) 

It worked like a charm, which just goes to show that the kids are able to solve their own fights (with the right incentive), Son#2 is actually able to strap himself in, not his usual 'I can't do it'-whine.

Patience is all it takes.

We had breakfast outside on the terrace this morning, mistake:  Mummy is hormonal, Son#2 made a mess with the milk and the flies came for their share of breakfast too.
Never mind.

In a little while, we're going to the beach, to Vendres Plage today, and will spend the day there.
I washed my hair last night, tying it into a ponytail when I went to bed, thinking I could use my straightening iron this morning.
It broke.
The Universe has a helluva sense of humour.
I now have big hair.
I will leave it at that. 

Think I need some time alone.
Sigh.

.