What is it about holidays that make you want to skip everywhere? Why is it that normally you'd kill not to have to get out of bed at 6:30 in the morning but on holidays you wouldn't dream of missing the dawn-y gorgeousness of 6:30am?
Our little Puddleduck family has just been away for a few days and it was quite disappointing to have to get back on the plane to reality yesterday.
Puddleduck is a teensy bit obsessed with Mary Poppins at the moment and the entire trip had the Mary Poppins soundtrack as backing. I still have Jolly Holiday in my head - talk about wishful thinking! Where is Mary Poppins when you need her?
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