Bloody nora, this week has been such a blur, that I am having trouble remembering my name. Yep, I have been busier than Prince Albert of Monaco's todger ..... which is saying something considering that his third 'love child' popped into the news this week (do you remember when they were called bastards? And were put into a work-house for their sins).
These days, you can spot bastard children because they have double-barrelled names (like Izzy!). Once upon a time, little Johnny Smythe-Witherington would have been a posh kid, but these days it means that his parents aren't married.
Anyway, I digress. The mayhem started with Izzy's sixth birthday party last Sunday (which means that she is a third of her way towards leaving home). And because I am kinder than Mother Theresa (but with smaller underpants - yes, that was an assumption), I thought I would show you some photographs of the bash itself ............ here goes.
Pic.No.1 We hired the 'Village Hall' in Stanton St John for Izzy's party. Izzy is the little blue dot with legs at the far end of the room. And this is the scene just before we started setting up her party
Pic.No.2 This is the party table, partly set in readiness for the arrival of Izzy's 22 friends. Yep! You heard right ........ 22 friends. I must have been really bad in a previous life
Pic.No.3 Izzy's grandfather does a little 'chair dance' whilst waiting for the pint-sized guests to arrive. And arrive they did. Within 5 minutes of this picture being taken, the place had descended into total mis-managed chaos
The mayhem was so extreme, that I forgot to take pictures. Imagine 22 kids and their parents all arriving within a 10 minute time-slot. I did some quick statistical calculations, and it quickly became apparent that I only had 16.73 seconds to welcome each arriving parent and child, otherwise we would over-run our schedule.
So I devised an aural 'welcome template' which lasted 12 seconds. It was; "Hello, I am so glad you could make it. Please go and sign in over there ......." at which pointed I gestured towards Izzy's Grandmother who was checking the kids in, and attaching name-labels to them. It was like a kiddie production-line.
After what seemed like an eternity, eventually all the sprogs had arrived and it was time to play games before the party food was served.
The kids were split into two groups of 11, and so the fun commenced ................
Pic.No.4 A 'pass the parcel' game going on in the garden. The CD player was broken and the music kept stopping unintentionally, so the game was over a lot quicker than we anticipated
Pic.No.5 Simultaneously, a 'Pin the tail on the donkey' game was going on in the hall, managed by Izzy's Dad, Steve
The hardest part about managing the games, was not the quantity of children, rather than their ability to interject at completely the wrong time.
Picture the scene; you have spent 10 minutes rounding all the kids up in readiness to play a game. Then just as you are about to start, someone would blart out; 'I need a wee', whilst another would follow it up with, 'Johnny bit me', and yet another would be cry, 'I've hurt my knee.'
It was like being swarmed by a herd of locusts, but not normal locusts ..... demanding locusts. And hypothetically speaking, could you imagine what demanding locusts could do to an average farmstead? The thought pales beyond belief. So I just resorted to telling them all; "just pin the tail on the bloody donkey."
Picture the scene; you have spent 10 minutes rounding all the kids up in readiness to play a game. Then just as you are about to start, someone would blart out; 'I need a wee', whilst another would follow it up with, 'Johnny bit me', and yet another would be cry, 'I've hurt my knee.'
It was like being swarmed by a herd of locusts, but not normal locusts ..... demanding locusts. And hypothetically speaking, could you imagine what demanding locusts could do to an average farmstead? The thought pales beyond belief. So I just resorted to telling them all; "just pin the tail on the bloody donkey."
Sacre Bleu!
After the games had finished, the party food commenced, and it was a full-time job (with five adults) getting them fed. They all had a sandwich put on their plate, but none of them were interested in it. The-six-year-old money is now on pizza slices, olives, butterfly cakes and chocolate fingers. Apparently 'cheese and pineapple' chunks on sticks are no longer de rigueur in the mini-set.
And to add to the food palaver, we had to make sure we didn't kill the three kids with allergies to dairy and nuts, because that puts a dampener on the day. So special platters had to be made up with a careful selection of food.
And to add to the food palaver, we had to make sure we didn't kill the three kids with allergies to dairy and nuts, because that puts a dampener on the day. So special platters had to be made up with a careful selection of food.
Pic.No.6 The party food is served. You can see Izzy (half-way down the table) giving me a cheesy grin
And then it was time to dim the lights and bring out the birthday cake. As I lit the candles, I noticed that there was also something else (that looked like a very large candle) standing on top of the cake.
"What the bloody hell is that?" I asked Steve.
"It is a cake fountain," Steve said, "you just light the top of it."
What he omitted to tell me, was the fact that it was basically a firework, and consequently, not only did I singe my eyelashes, but I nearly dropped the cake in shock. Bloody git. It's just lucky I am made of sterner stuff ..........
Pic.No.7 Izzy blows out the candles on her cake. She got a bit arsey because (quote) 'her friends blew out some of the candles instead of her blowing them out herself. But she said the favourite part of her party was everyone singing 'Happy Birthday'
Pic.No.8 Izzy flops back, exhausted after blowing out her candles. Drama queen? I have know idea where she gets it from!
Pic.No.9 Izzy's Grandparents (Grandad Fred and Nana) attempt to regain their sanity by relaxing on a bench outside the village hall once the party had finished and the guests had left
And so the party came to an end. It was the quickest two hours I have ever experienced, but the clearing up afterwards was the slowest two hours I have ever experienced. It was like dealing with nuclear fallout, but without the glowing.
But hey, it was all worthwhile because Izzy had a fabulous time.
Even better, once the work was all done, we headed to The Talkhouse pub for some beer and food. It would be rude not to enjoy the sunshine, after all.
But hey, it was all worthwhile because Izzy had a fabulous time.
Even better, once the work was all done, we headed to The Talkhouse pub for some beer and food. It would be rude not to enjoy the sunshine, after all.
Pic.No.10 Enjoying the sunshine at The Talkhouse. From left ...... Izzy's Grandmother, Izzy's Grandfather, Guy (father of Izzy's best friend, May), Jo (Mother of Izzy's best friend), and Steve. As you can see from the table, we took great care to try and appreciate the beer
Pic.No.11 The Birthday Girl. She was sticking a straw in the gaps in her teeth which is a bit minging. But she said that she had a great day
Blimey, can you believe that it all happened a week ago today? It seems like ages. So what have you been up to this weekend dahlink?
Tell me what you think by leaving me a comment otherwise it will rain on your parade
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