My heart sank when an email popped in to my inbox about a Jubilee Garden Party at DorkySon’s nursery. What a way to spend a Saturday.
I have documented my dislike of parties on the blog before, and when you add in the Jubilee element, that dislike only intensifies. I’m not massivly anti-monarchy; I just genuinely couldn’t care less about the Royal family. And flag-waving of any kind – be it Saltire or Jack – is not something that has ever appealed to me.
“I hope they don’t have one of those stupid hedgehogs with cheese and pineapple prickles,” I said to DorkyDad. “Or I may end up poking my own eyes out with a cocktail stick.”
The party was last Saturday, and I stand before you entirely chastened. I’m glad I don’t have to do it again next weekend, but I have to admit that it was quite a laugh.
We had timed things so that we’d only have to pop in for half an hour, before heading to the station to drop DorkyDad off. But after half an hour DorkySon was just getting into the swing of things, and was not to be shifted. So DorkyDad headed to the station alone, while I stood waving forlornly and pulling faces at the nursery gate, delaying the moment when I’d have go back inside and actually make conversation.
Thankfully, it was a beautiful sunny day. There was bunting. There was red, white and blue face painting. There was a craft table, where the kids could make themselves gold and silver crowns out of glitter and cardboard, before sitting and having their photo taken on
an armchair covered with tinfoil a throne.
There were chalks and markers and giant boards for decorating. Lots of the kids drew flags. Lots of the dads drew trains and fire engines, and it all got a bit competitive to see whose was most technically accurate. DorkySon drew a pink limousine and a flatbed truck, before very proudly showing us that he can write the first letter of his name. Then he got bored of drawing, and decided to climb to the very top of the climbing frame instead.
I ate Victoria Sponge off a Union Jack plate. I sipped Pimms, and I scoffed far more than my fair share of mini pork pies. I didn’t chat to many of the other parents, because I never do, but I had a really lovely time chatting with the nursery staff, who are all adorable.
It turns out it was quite a fun way to spend a Saturday… but if they want to turn the Dorky Family into Royalists, they’ll need to try a little harder.
As we were leaving, DorkySon said “That was brilliant. It was the best party I’ve ever been to.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m sure the Queen will be very happy to hear it.”
“Who’s the Queen?” asked DorkySon. “What’s she got to do with it?”