Today a the Fish Factory Union decided all Fishes should go on strike over their future pensions. Of course not every fish is a member of the union so a great deal of them didn't, but a lot of important ones did. I to went on strike although I have my doubts about it's effectiveness, as the big fat cat fish on TV says, all these little fishes have got it good going anyway. So it goes without saying, always be afraid of anything a fat cat fish says, you'd be stupid to agree with it. The choices for me this morning were the usual, go and picket, go to a rally, and go to a demonstration or use the time for myself and do whatever it is I wanted to do, because I'll be losing a days peanuts out of it. Not a gold lottery ticket as the fat cat fishes would have you believe.
I decided, to go with my own needs. In all purposes it was a day away from the Fish Factory. As my nephew Little Monster boy all of eleven years now was also effected by the strikes the choice was simple. I would take the Monster out for a bicycle ride by the Thames, we would have something to eat and then we'd cycle back. Although the day felt a little cold it wasn't bad at all. The sun was out and the temperature rose. We both enjoyed the cycle, except of course for the point where we have to pass a very stinky factory. I held my nose with one hand and managed to endure it before collapsing and dying from the smell. We looked over the Thames as we rode along and could see the tide was going out. The mud banks could be clearly seen. Rivulets of water carved craggy craters all the way back to the stream. Sea gulls and the occasional duck wondered on the muds looking for food. The exercise I sorely needed after eating late last night and I can say my little leggies worked hard we had probably done about two hours of cycling overall. But it was enjoyable.
We stopped at a large supermarket where they also had a catering section. It amazes me how many people use the supermarket cafe. When only a few feet away is a plethora of foods just waiting to be picked up off the shelf, taken home and made into something quite sumptious. We had an excuse because we were hungry tired travellers, which was what I said to myself. Little Monster boy agreed, he had a children's meal of cheese burger and fries, for monsters of course. Followed by a very large piece of lump dumpy Christmas chocolate cake a couple of cups of luke warm tea drown it all down. I was pretty surprised he managed to eat every scrap of food. More so when he polished off a free ice lolly (rocket) which he said was his favourite. Later on when we got back to the house for a rest I asked him if he liked the day and what he most enjoyed. The food was his answer. It didn't matter about the beautiful bicycle ride, the wonderful company or the time he had to chit chat, it was all down to the food. I was happy he had a good time, if I hadn't popped round and told him to get dressed because he was going out he could of spent more than a few hours playing electronic games. Afterwards I felt tired and nearly fell asleep while watching the news. It was hard work cycling. As for the food being the best bit for Little Monster, maybe this is a sign of his growing up and changing from a Little to a Medium. I may soon have to find another name for him. For my affection of his Little Monster status is probably about to be blown out of the water. Well, everything changes. Even Monsters grow up, given enough time.
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