Jo's Blog

There are many things to do on a bank holiday weekend. We, along with many other people, visited B and Q briefly to purchase some sand for our new sand pit. (See hubby's blog for amusing pictures.) We walked along the sea at Weymouth, we went to the playground, we sat in the garden and we went to a church fete.

It is amazing what passes as a social event in my child friendly country living social calendar. I was really looking forward to going to the church fete held in my parents' village.

It conjured up rose coloured images of my own childhood when I liked nothing more than running the hoopla stall at our church fete surrounded by my Sunday school friends. (Hmm - what good preparation for a future vocation!) Hubby was less keen and I don't think the twins expressed a preference, but we hopped in the car none the less and headed off.

Follow up:

It wasn't a roaring success. For a start, two year olds are just too small to do most of the fun things provided at a fete. There was a superb bouncy castle but they just couldn't have kept up with the enthusiastic six year olds bouncing around. There was a coconut shy but the balls were too hard. There was maypole dancing but darling son hated the music. There was 'splat the rat', which neither husband nor myself could do at all.

There was even Granny and Grandpa but not even the demi god that is 'Bumpa' couldn't pacify our screaming son. Pat hated it, he absolutely hated everything. Not even an ice cream could save the day, particularly as it melted rapidly and ended up decorating his arms, mouth, t-shirt and trousers. I think we managed 20 minutes at the fete and then we went home.

Hubby, to his great credit, managed to avoid saying 'I told you so'. And then he cooked us roast chicken when we got back. Perhaps we'll give it a couple of years until we try again.

I'll just remember to add that to the list of criteria when looking for my next church job; attendance at church fete optional.