This little chap, running full steam into a new day's adventure, has wanted to visit Venice ever since he learned about it. The idea of an entire city built around a maze of canals, with foundations rising out of the seabed, fascinated him.
Our last trip back to the UK then onwards though London, Paris, Madrid, Mojaca and returning home via Amsterdam just fed his wanderlust with Venice at its epicentre.
He seems pleased to be here at last.
We've burnt a lot of shoe leather since arriving.
Today we experienced the crushes on the vaporetto routes through the Grand Canal, past the amazing palaces and tantalising views into the smaller waterways of Dorsoduro.
I think he's pleased to be experiencing the city at first hand.
Unfortunately, his anxiety levels are maxed out. No - it's not pleasant.
Venice is a bewildering maze of a city to navigate around. Getting slightly lost is a normal part of the day's adventuring.
When he's anxious about life he lashes out. He doesn't trust us. He whines. He acts up. He shouts at us, wherever we are.
Yes - we're the parents with the whining ungrateful kid who is acting like a spoiled brat and doesn't deserve the trip of a lifetime to Venice. We're also the parents who in absolute exasperation have pointed out to him that if he can do a better job of navigating his way home, to go right ahead. We've also sent him to sit outside the cafe when his whines have increased to patron-upsetting decibel levels, and have just plain ignored him. And yes - we've also told him to shut up.
All in public.
Worst parents ever.
I think we're all still having the holiday of a lifetime.
All three of us.
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