In September 2008 we are going to Italy. Two adults, two kids and a partridge in a pear tree. -no wait, that must be those darned Christmas carols invading my thoughts again. Ok, to start again: yes, two boys aged 7 and 9 for the trip. Six weeks. Six weeks with no home to retreat to. 42 nights of finding ways to settle the boys into bed, and to keep them busy during that terror time of after dinner but before bath time. Umpteen hours of keeping them interested while Mum and Dad try to appreciate art, sculptures, silence... Hundreds of minutes of racing for the nearest toilet... which we can't find... with the inevitable accidents... But surely it won't be that bad? What could be worse than stuck in a queue for 6 hours, tired
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