TO THE SEA
It was Sunday morning. I lay in bed, listening to Dad whistling happy songs as pans clinked and the aroma of sausages, bacon, and toast wafted up the stairs.
“Get up, lazybones,” he shouted. “Breakfast’s ready.”
I jumped up and ran downstairs, joining Mum at the table, both still in our pyjamas.
“Who wants to see a whale today?” asked Dad, putting heaped plates on the table.
My hand shot up. “Me,” I cried.
Giving Dad a stern look, Mum said, “And when did you come up with this idea?”
“This morning. The lady on the radio said there’s a whale in Norfolk we can see. How often do you get the chance to see a whale?”
“I really want to see a whale, Mum,” I said.
