And then it came - the letter - The school was presenting a musical evening - An Extravaganza!
A concert...
Of course I support my children in all their endeavours but I knew this was going to be painful. Very painful.
First you have to try and elegantly perch your butt on a child size chair and then hope the legs don't bend before dying. You then have to dodge the mothers you don't like. I tend to arrive just in time and sidle myself into a chair at the back
Choir were lovely. Lots of little voices in harmony (almost). My girl sang with gusto and kept grinning at me in between. Many thumbs up were exchanged
But before choir - orchestra!
Little Sally* murdered her violin. Kevin* played the clarinet but in a different key to everyone else. And Recorders, who the fuck inflicted Recorders on us parents?
Then if the collective noise wasn't enough, we then had the solos
Kudos for the guts to play in front of a big audience - yes parental guilt, um pride, filled the hall.
No kudos for the playing..
After the choir there was a nice interval - I checked the programme and realised my little darling wasn't in the second half. So, I did what any other bad mother would do
I sneaked out the back
* names changed to protect the innocent
