Not Mr Percival

Had our traditional Easter at Edithburgh in a friend's parent's holiday house. First year we went there we constituted eight adults and one child. This year was eight and seven. Next, touch wood (tree of knowledge), will be at least eight all. Space is now at a premium.
Good Friday was too rough to go out fishing and the pub was closed, so we found ourselves with a dozen other families at the seaside park in Coobowie.
The Noodle has developed a recent fascination with pelicans and I'd promised him (not that he knows what a promise is) that we'd see some over the weekend. So when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large bird hovering over the beach, I wasted no time.
'Noodle. Pelican!' I took off towards him, flapping my arms, and screaming excitedly, hurdling other small children in my path.
'Pelican, Noodle, pelican!'
I swooped, plucked him from the monkey bars and tucked him under my arm. Several bounds got us to the fence separating the park from the beach.
'Look Noodle, it's a... hmm, it's a seagull.'
'Pelican?'
'No Noodle, seagull.'
'Gull.'
'Yes. Now run to Mummy, Daddy has to slink away in shame.'