goshdarned sonuva bush rained on our parade. well, ok, so it rained (and rained and rained) of its own accord, and we weren’t really parading. but we’d been planning to see the jellyfish exhibition at the maritime museum for weeks, and whoulda thunk the leader of the “free” world would choose this very morning to hang out at said museum too?

fortunately apec hadn’t quite locked down the mobile network, and a quick on-the-run phonecall later, me and the kid rocked up to the australian museum, where, beneath the enormous suspended skeleton of a blue whale, we got reacquainted with amber, ellaberry and arkyjoe.

in between the hallfull of skeletons (including a homely tableau of a human skeleton sitting in a comfy chair reading a book, with a faithful doggy skeleton by his side) and the kids area upstairs (more inventive handpuppets of wild — and scary — animals than you have ever seen) and the other kids area upstairs (way too many stuffed marsupials to be petted and kissed, and a live, deformed, green tree frog that looked as if it were melting), we shared a really good bowl of nicely-seasoned hot chips and a round of strawberry milkshakes, babycino, hot chocolate, and milky coffee. it was all fun and games, no-one lost an eye, and two little girls negotiated with grace and long-suffering diplomacy, the gentle art of hand-holding.

so there, mr president. why can’t we all just get along?