He is the king, he says

It's been a pretty tiring day. Accompanied J on his school's "beach day" trip to Shek O. Dragged my ass out of bed at seven thirty. The bus trip was well over an hour long. I was dying for some shut eye time during the journey but of course that was impossible with all the hyped up kids being boisterous oh beg your pardon! I mean abnoxious.

Yesterday was really hot. Luckily, this morning the sun was hiding behind some thick clouds when we got there so we hadn't been burned alive as I had dreaded. The waves were pretty big though. J went bananas running towards the sea and each time a wave hit he would dash away from it, all the while shouting, at the top of his voice "I AM KING OF THE WORLD! I AM THE KING! HA HA HA!!!" After he got tired of that (that would be, er, thirty minutes later) he changed the soundtrack to "WEEEEE ARE THE CHAMPIONS... DA DA DA.. OF THE WORLD!" Yet, I couldn't leave him alone to his madness for fear of the waves carrying him away. I had to lift him up every time a big wave hit and poor me! my back is still hurting.

After lunch the sun came out and the temperature quickly soared from 26 to 30. The sand was hot on our feet. I was dying for a beer but all I had was warm water that tasted like plastic. J's madness continued after the break. Only the soundtrack has changed yet again, this time to what sounded like Enya chanting in Korean, accompanied by improvised kung fu moves, none of which he could have picked up from his parents.

I was, in other words, being tortured. Incidentally, I am reading Dante's Inferno at the moment (just curious about what hell is like in the words of a great poet - it's overrated, by the way).