One can only blaspheme if one believes.

One of Henry's most favourite things in the whole wide world is "dinner outside". Here in Tasmania, "dinner outside" equates to "dining with seagulls". Thus, the other evening, we headed on down to Bellerive beach and feasted on an array of scallops, prawns, squid, blue grenadier, dory and chips at the world famous (well, it is now) Fish Bar.

We ate in the shadows of the light towers of the magnificent Bellerive Oval (home of the 2006/7 Sheffield Shield winners, the Tasmanian Tigers) and under the watchful gaze of a gang of seagulls that were loitering about.

Which brings me to Theme Thursday. I got the IMPRESSION that the seagulls were up to no good. The cynosure appeared to be a battered scallop (or perhaps it was a prawn), and despite my warnings to Henry and Ezra to avoid encouraging the winged-rapscallions, an imbroglio ensued when a stray chip found itself on the grass next to us.

You can imagine the commotion. In fact, in the subsequent kerfuffle, one sly bugger slipped away from the group surreptitiously and - unbeknownst to me at the time - exploited my exposed left flank. As I endeavoured to circle the wagons and defend dinner from the attacking hordes, Ezra pointed above and shouted "watch out" (actually, it was "Mama", but that doesn't make any sense as I am not his Mama). It was this moment that I FELT the coup de grace.

Poo right in the eye. Humiliated yet again in front of the children.


On that note, I wish to wish my darling and long suffering wife a "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" I did manage to procure a number of sought after gifts, but I actually believe that she deserves a medal for putting up with us all.