The older I get, the more I like to take my holidays in the same place.
Beside the same beach shacks.
In a unit with the same plastic flowers.
Baby spends his time putting Bunny in the cupboard.
And then taking him out again. He will grow up coming here. I love that.
We visit the second hand bookshop, then the mall with paddle boats on a dirty canal. We eat at the same bar.
When I can, I sneak out to the op-shop.
I don't think the girl I was in my twenties would have valued this slow progression of things.
How could I have known it was the sweetest thing?
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