Well, wasn't that an entirely agreeable weekend. Maggot 2 went on his enrichment day, and despite initially the "old lady talking to us like babies" it soon picked up and she started to "talk to us normally", and there was also a kind old man who they seemed to take a liking to, or rather, to which they took a liking, probably.
The other three members of the Scobi clan were not so lucky. We decided on a few hours and light lunch in Haywards Heath, but sadly that turned out to be a perfect example of high street decay and decline. It was almost like being up north*. So, we had to hastily reconvene the locations committee, and decided to take a run down to Brighton, where we had an American Diner experience (very satisfactory, especially Maggot 1's milk shake . . .) and a quick bit of shopping, before heading back to pick up Maggot 2 at "2.30pm sharp". Sadly, on the A23, the sign said left, the Sat Nav said straight on**, and we chose to follow the Sat Nav, which would have been OK except for the traffic works that had closed the exit Satty really wanted to use. The clock was ticking*** and we made it 1 minute late, only to find the children's return being 2 minutes late. Disaster averted and the world slid back in to its correct orbit.
In the evening we went to David and Samantha's for a lovely evening, returning home and midnight with Maggots, in a taxi. Thanks to David for picking us up in his car, so we did not have a Sunday car pick up to do, since we were then out to lunch with the outlaws in Chichester for a pretty decent pizza.
* Now, before I get letters, I know this is mere geographical stereotyping for cheap laughs. I remember a long weekend we took in Leeds some years ago, with LO expecting flat caps, fat lasses and ferrets on leads, only to find a vibrant city with great shops and a well groomed local population.
** Surely one of modern life's big dilemmas - follow the sign or the Sat Nav?
*** It was just like an episode of Countdown