Let’s do this together
Coooeee! I’m back. Yep, you’ve got me for the next week while Siobhan takes a well-earned holiday.
Well, what a lot has happened since I was last here back in July… some good, some sad, some funny, some worrying. But some things never change – being demented by The Lord and Issy.
Although we’re now fully back into the swing of school, let me rewind to the end of the summer holidays. As a last “treat” I decided to take the kids to see Wicked in the West End.
It was kids-go-free week, so I roped Mother in to get the two free tickets. “It’ll be a wonderful experience for them,” I told myself.
I should’ve known better, especially when the day we chose to go up was one of the hottest of the year and there was a train strike.
“At least the theatre will have air con,” I croaked to Mother, as we crammed on a baking hot bus.
Finally we arrived, The Lord only having asked me 3,245 times what the show was about. As we walked into the foyer, that welcome cold blast greeted me. But hang on, was it actually the air con or the wind being whipped up by the cuddly flying monkeys literally flying off the shelves…
“Look, a shop!” Issy squealed. I literally felt my purse wince as she dragged me over.
“Five minutes until the show starts,” a voice boomed. “Quickly Mummy,” The Lord cried. Before I knew it, I had a Wicked tote bag filled with fridge magnets, posters and flying monkeys, and a much lighter purse. There was just time to buy a £75 slushy each which came with a “free” cup, and two tubs of £900 popcorn before we made it to our seats with a minute to go.
Seconds later, The Lord tapped my shoulder. “Mummy, I’ve kicked my popcorn over,” he whispered.
Staring at the floor, I saw the nuggets of popcorn scattered everywhere (it may as well have been pound coins!). “I’m not getting any more,” I hissed. “Just watch the show.” And for a blissful few minutes, the performance had us all enthralled. Sitting up high, I’d scrabbled around for coins for the kids to have the binoculars.
“Mummy,” The Lord whispered. “I can see up your nose!” He had the binoculars almost rammed up my nostrils.
“Watch the show,” I sighed. But I knew he wasn’t getting it. For the next hour he tapped my arm repeatedly, asking “what’s it about, when is it half time, can I take my shoes off…” Issy thankfully loved Wicked, and, lucky Mother, because we’d got cheap tickets, wasn’t even sitting with us. She had a great time!
Me? Well, the five minutes I actually saw of it was brilliant. It’s safe to say though that I won’t be taking The Lord back any time soon. And that bag of Wicked goodies the kids wanted so badly? Still sitting in the depths of Issy’s wardrobe…
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Yours, Clare