By the time you read this I’ll have gone sailing.
Imagine that gorgeous couple is us – Mr Bean and I – strolling lovingly through the clear waters of the Whitsundays.
I’ll be looking dazzling in my white cossie, he’ll be smiling gracefully as he carries my feather light body through the water.
Actually the reality may be far more scary.
You see we’ve hired a yacht and will be attempting to sail it around the Whitsundays.
We’ve met a lot of people who’ve sailed before us and they fall into two camps – those who say it’s the best holiday they’ve ever had and those who say it’s their worst.
Here’s hoping we’re in the first camp.
The lead-up hasn’t been great. Mr Bean has assumed the role of Captain (he’s the only member of the family with a boat licence) and it seems the title has gone to his head.
When he’s not studying maps of the Whitsundays and muttering to himself, ‘I’ll need a compass. Better get a protractor. Check the torch batteries,’ he’s madly writing lists.
I found one of his lists on our dining table last week. It had me worried. Now either this sailing lark is a whole lot harder than the tour operators let on, or my husband plans to kill me.
You see his list featured many things including a hacksaw, bungee cords, duct tape (good, not the cheap Chinese crap) and zip ties.
Now if one wanted to murder his wife at sea and dispose of her body one would probably need these things.
I asked him about it and he claimed I’d found an outdated list.
“Don’t need those things anymore Al, already on board.” Hmm I feel so reassured by that.
Then a few days later he sat the boys and I down for a ‘serious’ chat.
I’m paraphrasing but the general gist was: ‘I’m captain, the captain’s in charge and you all need to do what you’re told … particularly you Alice.’
Then he went on to highlight all the times I hadn’t done what I was told and how on reflection I really don’t take instruction very well at all.
The boys ignored him and continued to play Minecraft.
I suggested that if my husband wants to see in our 10th wedding anniversary in May he’d best do away with the Captain Bossy routine and take a chill pill.
Holidays are for relaxing, I told him.
So hopefully by the time you read this I will be relaxed and sunning it up on the deck of our lovely yacht, looking gorgeous in my white swimsuit.
My biggest concerns this holiday are keeping our six-year-old on board, having enough food and not killing my husband.
We don’t really do confined spaces. And we don’t really do camping.
A friend kindly reminded me … ‘You do realise sailing is like camping but on the water.’
Yes thank you for that ex friend.
But seriously, if it all goes pear shaped I have Hamilton Island Resort on speed dial.