There are occasions that you wished you hadn't tried so hard to relax. In fact, sometimes it might be more relaxing not to relax.
We recently planned a lovely picnic for dinner. The junior recipe testers were particularly excited about it, as was the senior recipe tester and I. We were picnic-ing with extended family: there were sibling-type senior recipe testers to drink wine with, and plenty of junior cousins to play with. A relaxing evening all round.
We arrived and found a spectacular spot, with a table and a functional barbeque. Dinner on, wine poured: not a thing to complain about. Relaxation starting to set in. Dinner was cooked, and everyone settled in to eat in the open air.
Perhaps after half a dozen bites, one of the juniors then announced he felt the call of nature. Following extensive quizzing it was revealed that this was not one of those calls that could be easily relieved with a short walk to a nearby tree.
Being a somewhat more serious situation, we then started negotiating how much more of this relaxing meal we could enjoy before it would no longer be enjoyable. It was agreed we could at least finish eating. The seniors continued to do so.
The juniors, having finished their dinner, commenced a game of cricket. The first over went very well. In the second over, the wicket keeper got clubbed in the head by a somewhat over enthusiastic cover drive. Cuddles were administered, an icebrick was found and in a moment or two the affected junior decided they were ready to continue the game. The seniors continued eating.
When another junior announced a serious call of nature we decided the relaxation was perilously close to ended. More quizzing and more time was negotiated. Relaxation continued tenuously.
Now, at this point it needs to be explained that one of the senior recipe testers in our party likes chilli sauce. In fact, he is devoted to it. He eats it on most things, including picnic dinners.
With dinner finished, we announced to the juniors that relief was soon to be found. We were packing up and going home. One of the senior recipe testers began to wipe off plates in preparation for the repacking of the esky. She rubbed her eye.
We learned that there was chilli sauce on her fingers when she yelped. The senior was clutching her face and asking for water. The esky was unpacked again in search of a junior recipe tester's drink bottle that could be used as a squirting device.
It was when I observed one senior recipe tester fiercely squirting water into the eye of another senior recipe tester, I began to wonder what the price of relaxation was?