We all went to the Dawn Service. The CFO started this four or five years ago when we lived in South Yarra, taking Running Boy one year, Princess Pea another. Once we all went, but Cheekus Weekus was simply too little and wriggled and whined the whole way through. He wasn't sure he wanted to go this year but we explained that I wanted to go too, and he was too young to look after himself at home in the dark.
It was dark when we got up and left around 4:30 am, all rugged up. We passed special Anzac Day busses and little streams of people on foot joining up and thickening into rivers and then a crowd, an ocean.
We were quiet through the Last Post and patiently worked our way up the steps to lay poppies. I was the only one who got told off for bad behaviour, scandalising a nice old feller by forgetting to take off my beanie when I stepped into the Shrine.
We had bacon-and-eggs for breakfast at exorbitant Anzac Day prices which sent the CFO into conniptions. Then we climbed trees along Domain Rd, sending a busybody old trout into conniptions. Such larks.
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