Australia Day aftermath: Part I

It was all a bit of an anticlimax really.

On the day before Australia Day I drove into the city with the kids and gave them the activity of counting flags on cars. We’re a 45-minute drive from the city, up and back on the freeway, and through my flag-flying neighbourhood – and what was our total when we got home?

13.

Woeful! As a friend pointed out, perhaps last year’s prevalence of plastic patriotism was as a result of flag giveaways in the newspaper, and this year people weren’t prepared to splash out on a couple of bucks to display their ‘national proide.’  Probably saving for the flood levy.

Although, having said that, I would like to thank my friend who though it would be hilarious – just hilarious – to be an Australia Day ratbag, and sent me this email and photo early on our Big National Day:

Yes, my friend and my husband had conspired, while I was at work the previous weekend, to patriotically pimp my little Subaru and take a pic. Oh how they all laughed. She, however, is going to be Brownie’s teacher at school this year, so I’m just going to bide my time ….

Published by JB

When I'm not writing I'm doing paid work in Communications or International Relations, being mum to two teenage boys, attempting to maintain a reasonable marriage, and constantly adjudicating the battle between my inner feminist and inner domestic goddess, goddammit.

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