Fantastic Mr Fox

Last weekend was my goddaughter’s 5th birthday party. M & I (joint godmothers) were recruited to help chaperone a group of 16 children ranging in age from 5-8 years old.

It was like a military operation – each child had a sticker placed on their jacket with a phone number lest they should get lost. The kids all had serious conversations about the colour of ink on their stickers – most of whom were super pleased that they got their favourite colour!

There were 6 adults, each of which were allocated 2 or 3 children as their charges for the day. I had the cutest little boys – Oliver & Benjy. We were to take them by bus to the see Fantastic Mr Fox at a local theatre. My little ones were stars – they held hands, made sure they could always see me, and were sweet as pie. Sophia looked like she was having a fabulous time with a huge posse of her friends. The play was fun – a bit scary at first but the second half lightened up and was all about how Mr Fox outwits the nasty farmers.

On the way home, Oliver & Benjy entertained me with tales of how high they could jump and climb, and their favourite foods. I forget how non-linear conversations with kids are – they are all stream of consciousness. Climbing on top of a building segues naturally into eating spaghetti at their friend’s house, then into a conversation about their shoes having lights or lego attachments so you can build bridges on them. Very amusing though slightly hard at times to follow exactly what is going on. On the bus a third little boy joined in on the conversation. I have no idea what they were talking about but they were so enthusiastic it was hard not to get carried away by their exuberance.

Back at HQ Irmgard had made macaroni and cake, and the wee ones were greeted by their parents who took care of making sure they ate and were watered. M was tricksy – telling us the adult cake Irmgard made (she’d made two – one for kids and one flourless one for adults) had rum in it, which I duly repeated to every parent there. Bad Melissa! It was funny though – offers of ‘Cake?’ were met with indecision, but as soon as ‘it has rum in it’ was uttered, indecision became a resounding yes please. I guess a modicum of alcohol takes the edge off!

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