My Easter message for long-suffering parents
Easter is the leading Christian festival, even if Walsall FC has already hoisted up its Christmas banners with a crass lack of sensitivity. But hey, Christians aren’t allowed to be offended by anything, right?
Still, Jesus has given us the feast of St Cadbury to look forward to. An orgy of crumpled gold foil and cocoa solids is also a form of worship.
All the same, I don’t think it heretical to suggest that perhaps Easter no longer warrants a full fortnight off school, but that’s where children and adults must agree to differ.
They also diverge on how they want to spend the next two weeks. So to help you avoid and evade the spectre of screens and screams, I’m happy to share my top tips – but feel free to include optional add-ons, like lunch or smiling encouragement.
Ideally, get the children into the garden. Tell them you dropped their phones in the hedge if that helps. Once they are rampaging around, lock the back door.
Hold a box containing their technology aloft at a window and yell at them to make their own entertainment like you used to back in the day. This also works at National Trust properties; the staff can get antsy about the bellowing, but it gives your neighbours a rest.
Bake or make something every day. It sounds like a lot of work but, unlike a trip to the swimming pool, you don’t have to get undressed in a draught and everyone loves a vanilla biscuit. I recently went on a L’Oréal Because We’re All Worth It workshop in which young people made positivity mood boards to boost their confidence. In the same spirit, give your kids a pile of magazines from which to cut out pictures and words that make them feel good and stick them on a large poster. Either pin the resulting masterpiece on the wall or threaten to burn it, depending on how many times they include the words “nudes” or “poo” to annoy you. And, finally, make sure you organise playdates at your house in the early part of the break. This sounds generous, but by the end of Easter, everyone’s kids will be bored and fractious – and the other parents’ problem. You know it makes sense. No thanks needed.