And we get off to a good start as he discovers a flashing badge machine in the Sting Ray tank room. "I PLAYED WITH A STING RAY" his badge says, with an overly flattering portrait of the exhibits - these kept undulating disconcertingly to the surface and peering out eerily despite the information panel telling us they lived at the bottom of the sea. Scary. He loves it! - 50p well spent. Things were improving. Then disaster. Sting ray badge falls into tank with sting rays. Baby inconsolable as badge wafts to the gravely bottom with cruel lassitude. And not even the most devoted parents are getting into the tank with that lot. Even a new badge - "I WAS NEARLY SWALLOWED BY A JOHN DORY" didn't help. Unsurprisingly. But we've paid our money - we can't leave after the first exhibit, and besides, at all costs, you MUST enjoy yourself on a big family day out, and we're not doing very well so far. "Look, a lovely octopus - it's got green blood, you know - just like a Vulcan - and three hearts!" "Ahwantmabaaaaadge." "And goodness me, isn't that interesting - lesser spotted dogfish egg cases!" "Waaaaah, baaaaadge." It was no good. Perhaps we were defeated.
But wait, what's that?! The free-standing paper towel dispenser! Baby rushes to it, visibly excited. He quickly gets his little wiggly fingers inside the plastic hood, then works out how the lever operates, then pumps away, chortling at the snakes of resulting paper heartily, presses the 'extra paper release' button with a whoop of glee. We look at each other - should we worry? We can see no attraction in this machine - it is not the Hubble Telescope, not even a flashing fishy badge dispenser. It is DULL. We try to disentangle him, but he holds on, determined, cuddling the dispenser as if it was a favourite teddy. He loves it... For AGES! We explain, reasonably patiently, about the myriad wonders again, but no. We are worried now -if we can't get him to change his mind age two about anything, how will it be when it comes to sensible school shoes that don't ruin your feet, or girlfriends with an interest in voodoo.
Already powerless parents, we can merely observe, stuff the waste paper surreptitiously into the bin - and take it in turns to go and morosely watch the dainty seahorses bobbing about nearby. We wish we'd stayed at home for a family treat - maybe guiltily letting him watch a feature length cartoon while we read magazines and look up occasionally to say, enthusiastically, on a rotated basis - "Gosh! Yes! Mmmm!". But our fortunes have changed - we hold our breath as Baby at last allows himself to be pattered along to another exhibit - the seals - and getting into the maritime spirit at last, he loves them too! The only thing is, he is seemingly immune to their appalling pong. We are not. But it's still OK - we consider them such a step up entertainment-wise from the towel dispenser that we smile indulgently when Sammy the Seal does his one ring-on-nose trick for the hundreth time for chuckling Baby's delight - and because, half an hour before the train, just in time, phew, we can relax on our Family Day Out - we are ENJOYING ourselves.
What day trips did you go on as a child, with family or school that fill you with dread very today?
What makes a successful family day out?
Go on tell the message boards we dare you...
Gillian Ferguson's new collection of poetry called Baby is out now, published by Canongate Books Ltd.
