Sunday. And it really was, the Eastern Drove Road ox-and-cart highway was nose-to-tail all the way to the coast with that simmering heat haze of petrol fumes and anger emanating from people saying "we've been in this queue for 45 minutes and we haven't even got to the seafront overflow car park yet ... ".
But I didn't care, because Minecraft has a calefaction quotient of zero, even when it's raining. Eventually, she dragged me out and we hit Tunnel Park. This one has a large asphalt area so we kicked the giant yellow tennis ball about a bit and returned some other kid's football a few times and shot for the net in the basketball section and none of us were any good at any of it.
So we relegated ourselves to the swing-park division and soon attracted a group of local youths, and we introduced them to Giant Stupid Ball Tag and they loved it, and it's very different there because you can hide behind the train, and seriously, don't even get in the tunnel, because it only has 2 ways out. But because the miniature steam trains (Portsmouth Model Engineering Society) were firing up, too many little tiny kids arrived and you just can't be boisterous because you don't know if any of them are yours and you just can't risk killing them.
I was very hot so we sought refuge in the much cooler Co-Op (2 Ribenas for £2) and got home and pigged lunch and went to Okeley Dokely's house. I'd had him round for a playdate recently so he returned the favour and we built a Minecraft Hotel with, like, 27 bathrooms and we're collaborating on some luxurious rooms to coincide with the Victorious Festival, and we were so quiet his Dad forgot we were there and managed to paint a bench.
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Johnny and Robert had asked me round for a Random Barbecue in the pleasant evening sun. Even though we were 3 hours late we all played 10-pin Bowling on the Wii and it's not the same as real life and there was the odd tussle but lots of laughter.
Throughout the day I sang excerpts from the Lion King: mostly, can you feel the pain tonight, or can you smell the farts tonight, or many more enigmatic variations upon a theme.