Hey! I'm back! And I actually managed to update sooner than a month this time.

Thank you to Average Every Day Sane Psycho, Kali Ann and tonofthebalence for reviewing the last chapter. I'm enjoying writing my version of Donald and Daisy's relationship - I've mainly based it on the old cartoons, I.E. they do love each other but they're a bit to similar and find themselves clashing a bit. But we will come back to it. There's actually a...what do the writers call it?...a hint of fore-shadowing/an 'Easter-egg' in this chapter about it, I wonder if anyone picks up on it?

Anyway, thanks to you all and please enjoy this chapter.

08/03/2020

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS FAMILY!? Seriously - are we cursed or something!? WHY THE HELL CAN'T WE JUST HAVE ONE NORMAL OUTING!? ONE normal trip where I take my family out for a nice day and we DON'T run into some sort of trouble!?

You're never gonna guess what happened now - well. I suppose I should start at the beginning.

We took the kids to this museum that Huey's been on at us to see for about the last fortnight. The Museum Of Lost Treasures, which is in Spoonerville. Scrooge hates it with a passion and every time you mention it by name he says the same thing:

"If the treasures are in a museum then they're not 'lost', are they lass!? It's comoon sense!"

To be fair, he has a point. But he doesn't need to be quite so...passionate about it. He also doesn't need to swing the cane around like he'd trying to take someone's eye out with it.

So he stayed behind. As did Beakley because apparently she 'had dusting' to do. I made an exaggerated show of looking around, then said. "You've got to be kidding, Aunt Beakley, there's no dust anywhere."

"That's because I'm always cleaning." She said, in the icy tone I know so well.

So I left her to it and just wrestled Donald and the boys into the car. As well as Webby. Can't forget Webby. It was mainly wrestling Donald, to be honest, he seemed really engrossed in messaging someone and I had to boot him in the tailfeathers to get him to move.

We were meeting Goofy and Max there. It was decided that was easier than picking them it would be pointless seeing as they live a bus-journey away. And our car doesn't have enough space for them either. They're both bloody TALL.

Anyway after 1 hour, 32 minutes, one pit stop and one major row later we were pulling up at the museum. [The major row happened after Donald decided he knew where he was going better than the Satnav despite the fact we've never been to the museum before and so he took us off down this winding road which went on forever and steadily ignored my telling him to go back until Huey started stressing that WE WERE GOING TO BE LATE Uncle Donald, and we CAN'T be late because otherwise - as we all know - the gates of hell will open beneath us - and Donald finally decided we better turn round and find our way back to the main road. That added 25 minutes to our journey. And made Huey feel physically sick with nerves, which was great fun. Of course I was 'being sympathetic' but I'm still getting the hand of 'being a proper cuddly-type mommy' thing and after a few minutes of me rubbing his back and trying to distract him by telling him to look at clouds [my mothers favourite trick] he wailed that he wanted Uncle Donald. [Me, bitter? Of course not...] So I drove the rest of the way.]

Anyway. We made it there. Goofy and Max were very obvious, standing outside the entrance. Goofy was clearly looking for us - having brought [for some reason only known to himself] a pair of binoculars with him. [Maybe he thought we'd only be able to view the pictures from two mountains away?] He was swishing his head back and forth in a manner that, if it was anyone else, I would suggest was theoratical. But no, it's just Goofy. He's dramatic without meaning to be.

Max, on the other hand, was about as un-theoratical as can be. He was sitting on the steps leading down from the entrance messing about on his phone, shoulders hunched up, clearly doing his ABSOLUTE BEST to avoid being associated with his dad.

In other words he was being a typical teenager.

"Don-nald!" Goofy said, delightedly, lowering his binoculars. "Hiya Donald! Della! Over here!"

"Oh brother." Donald muttered, as several passers-by looked at Goofy curiously.

"Uncle Goofy!" The boys ran up to him and hugged him tightly while Max edged away slightly, though I could see him fighting a laugh.

"CAREFUL!" My twin bellowed as Goofy wobbled alarmingly.

"It's alright, Donald!" Goofy called back, still smiling. "They're just being high-spirited that's all. Like my Maxy!"

Max groaned and buried his head in his hands and muttered something that I couldn't hear but I IMAGINE was something along the lines of. 'Please stop talking, dad.'

We hugged and talked a bit more then Max, clearly mortified that his dad was talking at the top of his voice to his friends about his girlfriend [Who sounds nice.], said, in a typical teenage whine. "Can we go in now!?"

"Yeah!" Dewey said, matching Max's tone. "C'mon!"

So we went in. I could tell Donald was a bit hacked off about Dewey's attitude, but I signalled at him to keep quiet, mainly because I didn't want a massive scene in public. Which may sound strange considering the Duck family are famous for having scenes in public, but Goofy's not to keen on them, and I imagine Max isn't either, so.

To be fair to him while Donald was struggling to open a map and I was trying to have a conversation with Huey while also stopping Dewey and Louie from killing each other. [Apparently Dewey forgot to bring Louie's charger or something?] I heard Goofy say, quietly, to Max.

"Max, I want you to watch the attitude."

Cue Max. "What attitude!?"

"That attitude. Look, this isn't home. You're surrounded by young kids who look up to you and I don't want them copying you, understand?"

"They're not ki-"

"Max!" Goofy said, warningly.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I'll make an effort."

"Thanks."

So that's how you do it, I was thinking, as Huey babbled at me excitedly. "The Jewel is 800 years old! Apparently it was found in the City of Atlantis, isn't that cool!?"

"You're telling me someone went down there and they didn't think to turn it the right way up while they were down there?" Louie scoffed. "Lame-O's."

"Well, not everyone's as awesome and super-talented as we are, My brother." Dewey said, slinging an arm round Louie.

Louie smiled a little, then straightened his face and said, in a dead-pan fashion. "I'm still mad at you."

"Oh c'mon!" Dewey threw his hands in the air.

"Mom, mom!" Huey pulled on my arm. "Can we go now?"

"Huey, the jewels been there for 800 years." Max pointed out. "I seriously doubt it's gonna grow legs and walk away now."

Dewey and Louie laughed while Huey looked hurt and Webby fluttered her hands anxiously.

"I've got it!" Donald said, FINALLY managing to open that damn map. "Right. It's through the Portrait Gallery. Let's go."

Huey bounded up to him and asked, with his best puppy-dog eyes. "Can I lead the way, Uncle Donald?"

Donald smiled. "Sure." And handed the map to him.

Huey did a weird little jump around the room - nearly knocking a passing women over, much to Donald's and I's horror - but thankfully she was alright about it.

I didn't notice to much about her, but Goofy asked me as we were following Huey. "Hey Della, does that women seem fam-mil-ier to you?"

"Er..." It was hard to judge to be honest. She was walking in front of us and I could only see the back of her head. She was a dog, I could see that. "No. She just looks...normal?" I felt a bit confused, to be honest, I had no idea what he wanted me to say.

"Hhmm." Goofy had a strange look on his face, like he wasn't completely convinced. "Maybe."