Working Mum: Different kinds of frustration

The holidays have not been without issue - childcare has been a major pain (there really should be a clause in the Employment Act giving working parents the summer off. Please).

And then there have been the queues at the many attractions Master A and I have visited during the holidays.

The worst by far has got to be the wait for a ride on Grandpa Pig's Boat Trip at Peppa Pig World.

I'm sure the attendant was a not-so-secret masochist, enjoying the power she wielded over the slavish parents forced to hand over their free will to an animated porker and her pals.

For the attendant - sat in her booth day in day out - what did it matter if visitors were waiting for five minutes or five hours to board the ride? She wasn't going anywhere so neither were we.

We queued for more than 45minutes, which I know for some theme park rides is the norm but, hey, this wasn't Nemesis or Oblivion. After a whine fest of "Is it our turn yet?" from me, not Master A, it was eventually our go.

We raced into one of the boats, pretended to hoist the main flag, and waited eagerly for the attendant to start the ride.

I know I'm comparing apples to oranges but, having ridden some of the most thrilling rides in the world including Insanity in Las Vegas, Jumeirah Sceirah in Dubai and Vertigo in Copenhagen, Grandpa Pig's Boat Trip was somewhat underwhelming. A real disapp-oink-ment, some may even label it boar-ing (sorry).

However, Master A whose taste in rides is the polar opposite to mine - safe, secure and stationary - loved it (He likes nothing better than sitting in those rides outside supermarkets without putting the money in to make it move).

"Can we do it again, Mummy?"

And this we did another three times.

Working Mum, still having nightmares about seafaring hairy hogs...