I’ll cry if I want to

There was a debate on TV this week about the ever-more-terrifying phenomenon that is children’s parties. It was triggered by an egalitarian and well-meaning headteacher who’d issued a ban on party invitations at school unless it is a blanket invitation to every child in the class. This sparked a media debate between Camp A (“There’s no way 30 children are coming to my house. And anyway isn’t being excluded a key part of growing up that you have to get used to?“) and Camp B (“It’s always the same socially disadvantaged children that are excluded and it’s akin to bullying“).

Dear god – am I going to have to form an opinion on this at some point? Can’t I just ignore it and hope that it will go away?

As far as I can recall from my dim and distant childhood, the only parties that I gave the remotest toss about being invited to were those of my close friends. But back then parties typically involved a handful of party games in someone’s dining room and a plate of fairy cakes topped with Stork ‘buttercream’. Nowadays it’s all bouncy castles and hired magicians and professional cupcakes and a tenner’s worth of party bag for every child.

Alas, my dear Microbe, not in your house it isn’t.

If my future really must include a hoarde of unappealing grublings turning up en masse every June then I might simply have to ply them with picnic food and water pistols and suggest that they do their worst in a large green public space, with a civilised corner reserved for the parents.

With any luck the boylet will be painfully introverted and we can just send him on an annual jolly to a Star Trek convention with his internet friends. (Not content with “flux capacitor“, daddy has now taught him to do the Vulcan hand thing and say “live long and prosper“.)

For those of you who may be wondering (aka nobody whatsoever) I am pleased to report that ‘barf-boy’ did eventually stop barfing last week. He also celebrated his return to solidity by doing a ginormous poo in the bath. Hooray! Unfortunately his tummy bug was replaced almost instantaneously by a hacking cough which has kept him awake for days and turned him into a total misery bear at the weekend. Oh, the eternal sunshine of microbe husbandry.

I do hope he’s all better by Saturday as Jimmy and I have a big treat ahead of us. We’re both booked in for a beginner’s horse ride in Bushy Park. Apparently it’ll be a gentle 30-minute walk, with each horse led by an instructor. I’ve no idea whether the boy’s attention span will cope with a 30 whole mins – it’s a big leap from the 5-minute rides he’s had before – but I suppose he can always dismount once he’s had enough. Personally I’m looking forward to my own ride and crossing my fingers for good weather. Bushy Park is rather gorgeous in the autumn.

Well, that’s all folks. An almost pic-less update, but for those who’ve not seen FB already, here’s what we got up to on Sunday.

“Run! Run! As fast as you… oh, bugger”

gingerbread

Death Row…

gingerbread army

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About Susan Flockhart

Bonsai lady-geek and blogger. I can hardly recall what I used to blog about pre-microbes, but these days I generally ramble about motherhood, nonsense and whatever's going on the world of tiny people
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