I'm sure it would have been.
However, rain without end means that the Circus has been cancelled. It's still running, but the field it's based in is flooded and inaccessible by wheelchair, and the Big Top is so squelchy that patrons must be willing to sit on raised bench seats. They refunded us.
Which left us with four smallish children, one of whom had been promised a Birthday treat, two of whom were needing to be kept busy, and one who is just generally ecstatic to have two real live cousins she can actually reach and touch and play with, rather than wave to on Skype.
And the rain it raineth every day. And every minute of the day. And so there wasn't much point in even attempting the walk around the arboretum near the circus, and there wasn't much excitement in watching the animals at the garden centre, not when two of the four have been used to regular safaris and encounters with elephants and giraffes and other largish wild things.
So we did what we Beales do when the going gets wet - we got wetter. And went swimming.
Turns out, the Coral Reef has a jolly nice changing room with decent height adjustable bench and hoist, a pool hoist, a variety of slings and foam swimming aids, and staff who are super helpful. It's nice and warm too. Just the teensiest bit overcrowded on a wet Saturday afternoon, but much fun was had. Multiple Beale Pileup, with one cousin prefering to dive and blow bubbles whilst the other preferred to try riding the inflatable pole, one child in an entertainingly floaty wet suit, and Miss Mog content to drift gently. Not her best day; but she did at least stop moaning for the whole time we were in the water - considering how she's been the rest of the day, I'll take that as a definite positive.
Small children turned the back of our bus into some kind of aviary on the way home. Squeaks and whistles, hoots and crows, and Mog joining in with the best of them - a vocal game she could share as an equal. Almost enough for it not to be hugely irritating to the adults in the car. Almost.
Home for fish and chips, and Mog's managed to hit the ceiling, walls, floor and my Tshirt. Pureed fish has a pungent and lingering aroma.
And then visitors returned to Grannie and Grandad, and the girls fell into bed. The Little Princess has been asleep since I hooked her up to her Nippy; Miss Mog has decided a loud moan is preferable. Multiple doses of diazepam, pain relief, lots of bowel massage and deflating, and she is still distinctly uncomfortable and generally unimpressed with anything in life that isn't Grandad jiggling her arms of small children being shrill. Or Coral Reef water. Seizure? Spasm? Pain? Boredom? Hips? Bowels? Spine? I don't know, but it turns out I'm not a particularly nice person, because my ability to be sympathetic is running out rapidly.
Meanwhile the cats are distinctly huffy. This rain is apparently all my fault. The presence of noisy extra children is also all my fault. And Benjamin appears to be blaming me for his aches and pains too. Whilst simultaneously resisting the syringe full of pain relief. Perhaps I should give it to Mog instead*
The advantage of swimming over the Circus is that the children come home clean and tired and ready to sleep. Mog's scuppering that one nicely, but I believe the theory holds sound for the other three. There's something very satisfying about watching small children leap and wriggle and splash and cheer each other on. And there aren't many other places I can cuddle Mog for an hour or so and move around freely at the same time. But now I think I need to go and find her off switch - The Downing Family are keeping her at a quietish grumble rather than out and out screaming, but I'm not sure that I can listen to them all night, even if she can.
*Not seriously, no need to contact SS.