Pages

Tuesday, 22 December 2015

Screwed. A Christmas Carol (concert)

The school Christmas carol concert. Because two nativity showings aren't quite enough to give you a nervous brea...put you in the Christmas spirit. 
One thing you should know about the school carol concert (in fact most school assemblies) is that you will never get on the front row. In fact, you'll be lucky to get a seat. There's no other explanation for this apart from the fact that some parents must camp outside the doors overnight like a hoard of Daniel O'Donnell fans waiting to violently push their way to the front. 
If you're anything like me you'll stand on the side lines red faced and out of breath from running to school in order to make it on time; with two squashed poinsettia plants under your arms for the teachers, because of course you forgot until the last minute that buying Christmas presents for teachers is now the thing to do.  
The cardio from running will transcend in to muscle building exercises as you are forced to wave at your child every 0.2 seconds, who is craning their neck to look at you from the front of the hall, expecting you to respond EVERY TIME.
You lean against the wall of the school hall grateful for 5 minutes to relax and regain your breath and then a teacher waves a box under your nose. Raffle tickets. Of course. Rummaging through your purse you begrudgingly hand over your last bit of spare change and buy a ticket for that huge hamper at the front of the hall. You don't have to worry about carrying that bad boy home at least. You'll never win. That shiz belongs to the Daniel O'Donnell fans.
The carols commence and you're extra pleased to find out that you've ideally placed yourself right next to tone deaf Pavarotti who proceeds to ruin every Christmas song you've ever enjoyed and scar you for all Christmas' to come.
You can either seal your lips tightly shut to avoid anyone thinking that this catastrophe is coming from your mouth, or you can revert back to being 14 and take a sly glance at a parent stood next to you in an attempt to make them laugh.
You choose the latter.
Then you're given the eye by the headmistress. 
You wish you'd packed some alcohol. It's extremely selfish for the school not to provide mulled wine on occasions such as this.
Is it over yet?
No, you've only been here 5 minutes. This must be how time ticks by in hell. With Satan warbling 'oh come all ye faithful' in your ear.
Has nobody brought any alcohol? Nobody at all?
The kids have the right idea. They keep disappearing every 2 seconds to use the toilet. Can adults do that? Do we have to ask the teacher to be excused? 
After what seems like an eternity the concert ends. Eventually.
Right! Time for a mulled wine! You gather your things, looking at your watch. Definitely time for a winter warmer before you have to come back for the school pick up! You just have to get rid of these bloody Christmas plants first. You start waving manically to your child, glancing around for an appropriate time to launch them at him. 
What's that? Parents can take the children home early? 
It's half 2! For Christ's sakes! 
You throw the mashed poinsettias at your four year old with instructions to pass them to his teachers before he collects his coat & bag. He carries them over by their leaves. 
Sigh.


* And of course every time I wrote "you" throughout this post I meant "me."

Merry Christmas!!! 

No comments:

Post a Comment