Play cafes are the eternal saviour of the sleep-deprived adult-in-charge-of-a-small-person, but sadly the pandemic has kissed goodbye to/coughed all over a hefty chunk of our favourites.
London
This month, meet the Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic at the British Museum’s new immersive exhibition and frolic among the sculptures at Frieze in the park.
I’ve started to wonder how many other play cafes we’re missing out on because we haven’t happened to stumble across them on our way to something else.
All that was left was for me to get over myself and my crippling fear of… well, most things, and just get on the sodding boat.
Being able to wander unobstructed by other humans without having to worry about losing toddlers in a sea of legs made it much less stressful.
It is quite nice being able to look round a museum without every other bastard in London being there at the same time.
I was half expecting to be digging up physical clues, but obviously that would be completely ridiculous and also it’s 2020, not 1952.
This particular day was so unbearably hot there was literally only about 10 minutes where at least one of us wasn’t crying or shouting.
Coronavirus is weird. Like literally someone in China ate a bat last winter and six months later we’re driving to Enfield to play jumped-up crazy golf.
A brilliant Coronatime activity, given that it’s outside and easy to stay really far away from everyone.
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