Hear that? Close your eyes. Listen. It’s the house in silence.
[Warning: this contains swear words]
No screaming or shouting or Paw Bloody Patrol or the precociousness of Sophie the Fucking First.
Nothing. Just the fans whirring, maybe a car zooming past outside or a lorikeet chirping. Which is an awful long way from this morning’s shit fight in the car over whose school bag had “the right” to sit on the car seat as opposed to on the floor and no there isn’t room for a school bag AND a kindy bag “JUST MY SCHOOL BAG!!!!!”
But I did manage to get a sweet photo of the kids on their first day of term before that happened and post it on Facebook = Smug Parenting 101.
Anyway, after managing to turf my kids out at their respective places of education I did what every self respecting Stay At Home Mum (or not working that day mum) does and headed to our local café for a coffee and school holiday debrief. I haven’t seen these people, except for the random shopping centre hello, which is always interspersed with little people asking whether we can go now, for six weeks. I usually see them every day at pick up or drop off and to be fair, at the start of the holidays I was totes down with not seeing them: I wanted to spend time with my children and bask in their delightfulness. *eyeroll* FFS.
But I’ve done that and now I’m ready to face the new school year with my mum-tribe. That group of ladies who get me and don’t mind that I drop fucks and shits into even the most benign conversations. The ones who don’t judge when Sussie’s uniform is clearly not ironed or when the Boetman has a green bungy jumper coming out his nose for three weeks straight. The ones who laugh and say yes, Frosé does sound like the nectar of the Gods and when shalt we be necking this alcoholic goodness?
It’s taken two years, but I’ve got them. Their number grows and I love them all.
So, off to the best coffee nearest our last drop off: Hand of Fatima. This little coffee shop is on the beach side of the Peregian Beach Square and has simple seating inside or outside on the footpath at high tables. The first time I had a coffee here I felt like an extra in the Seinfeld episode of The Soup Nazi. Carlo is energetic and unapologetically forward. Yes, it’s confronting, but you know what? Not every person who’s a great chef or awesome barista has a personality to win the Miss America Pageant. I’ve been a few times now and gradually I’m finding the owner less affronting and more… passionate. Sometimes he’s obviously had a bad day, most of the time he’s bouncing of the walls with enthusiasm for life. Don’t we all from time to time?
Anyway, the coffee is seriously great (they use Allpress Beans), around $3-$4. And the food is divine. There are only four or five choices on either the breakfast or lunch menu and everything is made in the little kitchen out the back. It’s not bacon and eggs, but fancy stuff like Persian rice pudding with roasted fruits, almonds and pistachio nuts (approx. $17) or Moroccan braised beans with spiced sausage and poached eggs (approx. $17). There’s also always huge muffins for around $5. Lunch contains the same middle eastern theme and is healthy, delicious and around $18 per plate.
There are LOTS of great cafes and tiny little coffee carts doing great things throughout Peregian Beach, but Hand of Fatima is one of the best. Yes, the owner can be off-putting, but so can adult romper suits and they seem to come back into fashion every now and then too.
We waited a while for our coffees (around 10 minutes) mostly because there are a bucket load of people who come here for their piccolos and flat whites. In the mean time we all chatted about how our kids were bloody awful turd-burglars until we got them to school and wondered when swimming lessons start. You know, all the big issues.
Geez I missed those bitches.