The Definite Farticle

I was rudely awoken this morning by Jof snuggling my shoulders as I lay face-down in bed. I retaliated by releasing a night's worth of pent-up gastric gases, serves her right, should know better.
And it rained. Sometimes it only bucketed, but there were also lumps of ludicrosity as the car swam up the Eastern Road and we got out at the Watersports Centre, very funny I don't think. At least they have wetsuits, he said, before abandoning me to the wrath of Poseidon, armed only with a box of goodies and some foam.
As it happens, they have wetsuits and hoodies and waterproof trousers and shirts and shoes and those rubber bands you put over your sleeves to stop the leeches getting into your armpits.
We put them all on and went canoe-rafting up the river, by lashing 2 canoes together, one pair for each team of 8. We splashed past 4 seals, 2 babies and 2 parents, which was nice, like junior dolphin-petting. On the way back, one of the seals came out to see us. We were doing rhythmic rowing, you know, with the big fat bloke with no shirt and the drum going bimbombimbom and when the seal pulled up alongside me you know you can't stop the beat and I clonked him with my oar. He did a duck dive and scarpered. Oh no! I have become what Jof despised! For she was a hunt-saboteur with her angry lefty mates back in the sixties and now I am a seal-clubber!
Anyway, we did the climbing wall and the Adrian's Ladder obstacle course and at pickup time, the car park was so full of Range Rovers Bud had to park in the Tudor Sailing Club next door. Because of the full-on physical nature of this week, my bedside light went off at 9pm. I couldn't believe it, I don't switch off that early on school days, and I thought this was a holiday ...