It’s coming up for that time of year when all slack parents – beta mums, delta dads et al – cut holes in sheets for heads and arms, and stick a bit of tinsel onto a wire coat hanger.
“There you go darling, a real little angel,” we mutter, trying not to laugh.
But at my children’s school, this is not de rigeur.
The Christmas Show (not the Nativity Play, you’ll notice) necessitates a street urchin costume for Ben, so his own clothes will do fine.
When Ben told me about their show I suggested, helpfully I thought, that I should read the story to him at bedtime.
His response was scathing…
“I don’t need you to read it to me, We watched the DVD at school.”
The infants are going off at quite a tangent. They’re doing something about Dr Who.
But no. Yesterday Hannah informed me she’d had the choice of being a Cyberman or a Dalek, and she chose to appear as a dalek.
Not something I can run up on my ancient hand-operated sewing machine using an old sheet and a coat hanger.
I’m awaiting construction instructions from her teacher – which I can then pass on to their Dad as I’m working away for a few weeks.