It is Bank Holiday Monday and other than a quick trip out shopping to restock the cupboards, it will be a day in front of the TV, which is little effort. I have great memories growing up which would not involve sitting around the house even if it was raining.
Back then, there could be a charity football game over the park dads v mums along those lines or a pram race.
The first visit of the year to the seaside could be card on the train with a visit to Barry Island, which would open for the Easter weekend, which was a fun time out if the weather was right. We would never have shed loads of money but we could still party.
I would hit the amusement arcades playing the machines, which made me happy, but remembering not to spend my chip money because there is nothing better than eating a bag of chips at the seaside. There were other options, the cinema more likely if the weather was damp and dull if there was something worth watching. On the other hand, we would just hang out in the park or around the riverbank maybe a bit further afield over the burning ground.
But growing it was football in the shape of Cardiff City began to take over my life. Trotting along to Ninian Park on a Bank Holiday Monday consumed me more fun if it was an away game. Sad thing is I will be sitting at home later when Cardiff City take to the field against Nottingham Forest this is no protest about anything happening around or in the club this is a private mental health issue that one day I will explain fully.
Writing this I realised I was a shit dad has on a bank holiday we would rarely do anything as a family but for the odd trip or a visit to family we always seem to be skint but I would manage to have some cash for football.
What the hell... screw shopping we will have a takeaway tonight.
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