opinion

We need to talk about picnics. And the 27 reasons they’re kinda… sh*t.

Look.

We would never want to appear… ungrateful.

But we need to have a very honest conversation about picnics. 

Immediately.

As a very locked-down New South Wales approached six million vaccine doses, Premier Gladys Berejiklian promised us a treat. We spent at least a full week communicating with each other via guesses:

Us: U THINK IT'LL BE HAIR CUTS OR NA?

Stranger: NA I RECKON BUNNINGS SAUSAGE SIZZLE.

Us: Fkn hope so. 

Ultimately, Gladys announced her present for the fully vaccinated: picnics, with up to five people (not including kids). 

How lovely. Friends and family and snacks and alcohol and dogs and children and social interaction. We shed a tear for our regrowth - the real victim here - and pictured tipsy, sunny afternoons with fresh humans. Except there's one small problem.

Picnics aren't lovely.

Picnics are hell.

And it's taken this bizarre moment in history, where we're only allowed picnics, for us to remember.  

As one colleague described her picnic last weekend, "it was like being at an awful festival. It rained, the toilets were gross and full of rubbish, and there were literally grown adults so drunk they were throwing up everywhere."

Okay but why does this panda gif perfectly resemble last weekend. 

So here are 27 absurdly petty reasons why picnics are actually low-key really sh*t?

1. Wtf do I wear. The dress code is unclear. The weather will also change and that's a lot for me to take on right now. 

2. How does one describe where they are in a park? I'm on the grass. Near the thing. Near the other people with the picnic rug. You can't find me? Too bad, I'm already home.

3. I don't want to cook or bake or generally have to prepare anything. That's why restaurants were invented. Now I have to make something and put it in tupperware? That I allegedly own? But it's going to spill in the car because of course it will? And no I don't have plastic forks and this is suddenly feeling like an environmental nightmare.

4. My sunglasses aren’t cool anymore and now I have to wear them in front of people.

5. Dogs have had the run of parks for too long. It's their territory now. They don’t even remember that people could once sit in parks so they’re understandably upset that there are humans sitting in their playground. It makes chasing inconvenient. So every picnic you attend has a dog leaping through your picnic. Probably kicking you in the eye. And golden retrievers continue to steal the most expensive cheese on the platter which is fine but it makes them sick later.

No this isn't going to bode well for your tummy. 

6. On a related note, is that dirt or is it dog poo because it's on my leg.

7. Why is the grass wet.

8. The wind pushed the picnic blanket into the dip.

9. That child is screaming and how dare it. 

10. OK now they're not screaming. They're just standing on our rug staring at us in silence and we don't know who to alert.

11. This surface isn’t flat and now my plastic wine glass has toppled.

12. Also, the bottom of my wine glass keeps detaching, and this is why I hate plastic wine glasses.

13. There's no toilet and it's a logistical nightmare.

14. My dog is harassing a couple and honestly I don’t want to get involved. 


Video via Mamamia.

15. Weird people are used to occupying the park. People with tightropes for no reason. People practicing Taekwondo. People who are too flexible. Those people are still there. During my picnic. And it's distracting. 

16. I think I have an allergy to grass. I’m not certain but it always gives me a rash. I don’t want to look into it medically because I don’t want to be the type of person who has an allergy to grass.

17. The wine. Is. Warm.

I quit.

18. Natural light isn’t flattering on my face. 

19. I’m sunburnt. 

20. I’ll reiterate: where is the toilet.

21. I ate too many snacks and now I feel sick.

22. A minute ago I was sweating and now I’m shivering.

23. For anyone over 30: this isn't good for the hips or the knees. They’re already not in a good way. They’re clicking and creaking and now we’re slumped cross legged on a picnic blanket and the discs in our spine are whispering you’ll pay for this later.

24. Everyone can see my underpants. No matter how I sit. Or what I'm wearing.

25. Okay so I'm getting really close to peeing in a bush and somehow I don't think that's what Gladys was envisioning. When she gave us this... treat.

26. There's no end time. The good thing about going out for dinner or drinks is there’s a structure, and a point at which it’s clearly over. Usually when the venue closes. Parks don’t close. So we're here. In the dark. 

27. Now I have to carry all this shit home? 

For more from Clare and Jessie Stephens, you can follow them on Instagram at @thetwins_thoughts, or listen to their weekly podcast,  Cancelled.