School Christmas Fair / Fayre / Fare / Cake Shop / Offie...

Team Parents love a Christmas fair.

A few quid on a tombola.

Visit the cake stand.

Watch something interesting happen. Maybe involving our kids.

Visit the cake stand.

Get a burger or a hotdog.

Gamble legally in a school for booze.

And if there's time, visit the cake stand before we leave...

Hello!

StallRunnerCakeGuardian: 'Hello! You again?'

No. This isn't me! This is a hologram... You think this is the real Quaid?

Yep.

CakeGuardian: 'What can I get you?'

Cake. That please <Points>

CakeGuardian: 'One chocolate fairy cake?'

No... Not 'that' one cake <Is indignant>

CakeGuardian: <Looks confused> 'Then what were you pointing at?'

The table. The entire table. I want all the cakes on that table! <Points>

CakeGuardian: 'Oh... Classy '

What?

CakeGuardian: 'Nothing... That'll be... ooo... rr.... one pound ninety please!'

<Hands over wonga>

CakeGuardian: 'And your change...'

No, no. Keep the ten-pence <Walks off with entire table of cakes>

Mank-Moo! <Sprays crumbs everywhere>

CakeGuardian: 'You're welcome... fatty'

(I'll be back for more later...)

Ok to start with.

It's fair. Not fare - that's what you pay an assassin taxi.

And fayre is just wrong. <Tuts> Ask Wiki about it here.

You would think schools would know better? <Tuts again>

(Actually I quite like fayre, makes me think faeries will be there selling wings and dreams knuckle dusters)

Anyhoo...

We have two school fairs to attend.

Boy9's and Miss5's. They don't go to the same schools as we moved from one side of town tother. Simple. Each year, EACH AND EVERY DAMN YEAR, they are on the same day. <Swears into pillow>

But at least at slightly different times of the day. Which means.

Team Parents can, if we're quick, attend Boy9's and then leg it across town to Miss5's.

All of this with BabyBoy2 in tow. Ready to have a no-nappy accident at any second.

And Miss5 still needing to be collected from school by someone else.

Exactly when Boy9's fair starts.

I've said it a million times. We need a teleporter.

Of course by Team Parent (yay!).

I mean Mrs. Amazing. Who has to do all this as I'm at work.

Getting an hour off work to attend a fair isn't too hard to wangle.

But asking for most of the afternoon off to essentially tour all the local school fairs in the area...

Well that's a hard wangle...

Please can I leave early to attend my daughter's school fair?

Boss: 'Fate?'

No, no. Fair <Points at internet>

Boss: 'Oh right... Of course you can!'

Thanks... er... My son has a school fair too. Can I leave early for that too!

Boss: 'Well.. Sure it's Christmas!'

Thanks!

Boss: 'When is it?'

It is directly before my daughters! So I'll be gone most of the afternoon.

[The room grows colder]

Boss: 'Oh <frowny face> that's a bit different...'

... Is it? <Sense of impending doom growing>

Boss: 'You remember when you took a morning off to go do flower arranging with your daughter at her school?

Yes. And it's still just as true and as real as it was then... and is now...  <Shuts up>

Boss: 'Well like then. I'm just going to need a bit more of your soul to be able to approve it'

<Points at bucket lalel 'souls'>

More? Right... <Sighs>

Actually following a Team Parent (yay!) meeting.

We decided that actually Miss5's fair was fun and cute and worth me taking time off for.

Whereas Boy9's is MANIC and low in actual fun. As he's nine and just wants money to run off with and ditch us anyway.

Mrs. Amazing bravely agrees to take that bullet on her own. Brave lady.

But as Miss5's actually wants us there to show us stuff. Not just as cash cows.

We agree to attend Miss5's Christmas Fayre (yuk).

All four million of us.

We meet outside of Miss5's school.

In the queue to get in. Why a queue? Yes. Why make us queue?

As we wait Mrs. Amazing explains what Boy9's fair was like. She described it as a violent mosh-pit, stinking of beer, and full of bearded loonies. Without music.

I am not very sad I missed it. And have my suspicions about the amount of beards that were there.

When we get inside Mrs. Amazing sends me off with the kids for a bit. While she hunts for a wine, coffee, chocolate and magazine stand. Basically a sanity stand.

I have no objections.

Me and the children make slow progress around the school.

I'm used to getting through crowds quickly. But suddenly I've Boy9-meander, Miss5-distracted and Captain no-idea-where-he's-going. Coz he's little.

But we have good fun all the same. I just have to slow down a bit and accept the pace.

And keep a firm eye of each of the cats I am trying to herd.

We win some sweets at hook a duck. No loses at this hook a duck.

We see Miss5's classroom. We avoid some tut being sold.

We get a bit squished in hallways. We wait for to get served.

But all in a Christmasy way. Which is fun.

And we don't buy any more crap from the old-crap-stuff room as that's what I did last year.

Just before Xmas... <Looks guilty and away...>

(Yar! Yar! <Whistles> Comeby! Comeby!

Here puss puss… <Is scratched a lot>

<They steal my hat>)

Then Miss5 spots the face painting room.

Alarm bells ring in my head. WOOP! WOOP! But I can't remember why?

Why shouldn't I say yes to this? Think man! Think!....

Cake. Bacon. CHOCOLATE! Nothing.

I agree just as Mrs. Amazing joins us and in we go. Straight into a queue.

Smeg.

I remember what was wrong with face painting.

There is always a queue. A long. Slow. Boring queue. Which you cannot escape.

One of Miss5's class mates pass with an awesome butterfly on her face.

Miss5's face lights up at it.

We have no chance of escape now.

Damn it, damn it.

I offer to stay and wait with Miss5.

Like the gentleman I am. Mrs. Amazing declines my offer and opts to stay put.

Instead she sends me off into the madness again with Boy9 and BabyBoy2 for cakes.

We're gone for months and eventually come back with sweets and cakes.

To find Miss5 and Mrs. Amazing have moved three millimetres forward

Thank bacon this is a fast face painting queue.

As I look about.

All you can see is parents in pain. Dying slowly behind their eyes. Waiting.

Knowing that in less two hours all makeup, they’ve waited for ages to get put on, will have to be removed for bedtime anyway.

It’s like queuing to be poke in the eye. And they charge for it.

Me, Boy9, BabyBoy2 sit down at the desks and start on our cakes. And we pretty much have a picnic right there in the classroom whilst everyone else in the queue has to watch us.

Sorry. And sorry I didn't share.

And not sorry it was my cake. Bad luck.

Eventually, at the turn on the millennium, it is Miss5's turn.

I've not heard what she wants. But I am guessing butterfly. It's what I'd have.

She's still going to be ten minutes so Boy9, BabyBoy2 and me head off again. Toilets. Cake stand. Both call to us all. BabyBoy2 especially and we race out. We make it. Mostly.

We end up at a stall where the lovely lady running it, is a friends wife.

The stall is ‘Roll a dice and win a teddy!’.

Only there's only two teddies left. They both hella suck. No way I want those coming home with us. Another sucka parent takes the most preferable teddy. Leaving one. The worst.

The last choice teddy left for some poor fool to purchase.

My friend appears next to me. Smiling.

Like a shark. I am then essentially cornered by them both and clearly explained to: That once this teddy (the last chicken in the shop teddy) is gone. They can both go home.

He begs. I glance again at the teddy. It’s crap. No.

He pleads. Hmm.... No.

He points out it is only fifty pence. Hmm... I'd still rather have the money… No.

He invokes the ‘All-Father Cry for Help’, ‘Dude to dude treaty’ and the ‘Don’t be a twonk’ look of anger, and I have little choice...

FINE!

I hand BabyBoy2 fifty pence so he can roll the dice.

AMAZING! (not at all amazing) He wins. We win the last teddy.

My friend and his wife leave quickly shouting thanks and giggling a bit.

BabyBoy2 looks really happy with his new teddy. Which does soften the blow.

He shows me it close up. It does actually say 'Best Dad ever' on it. Which I hadn't noticed.

I have a inexplicable and rapid change of heart and warm to the teddy. No idea why.

Then me and BabyBoy2 have great fun throwing it about for a bit.

Mrs. Amazing appears in a puff of smoke and glitter.

With Miss5. Their long lonely vigil at the altar of face-painting over. Phew.

It is not a butterfly on her face. And I can't quite place it.

So I ask...

What are you?

Miss5: 'Christmas vampire!'

Oh! ... Cool! ...

<To Mrs. Amazing with my eyes 'WTAF?' >

Cool! <Thumbs up to Miss5>

Mrs. Amazing explains later.

Butterfly was on the cards. Butterfly was totally the choice.

But then a slightly older girl before Miss5 had gone for Christmas Vampire. And that was it.

I can see how it happened. But it still doesn't that much sense.

But Miss5 is really happy with her face paints.

And leaping at people.

I show Mrs. Amazing our winnings on the tombola.

Some bottles and chocs! Very little money was spent too. Mrs. Amazing says how much she won at the other fair. Even less was spent and more was won.

I tot everything up in my head. And we're way ahead. Which seems weird to me to be honest.

But whatevs, we do it for the good of the school.

<Shines halo with booze>

(I claim everything for me... because... <Just runs>

<Is tackled to the floor by Mrs. Amazing>)

Knowing what we have to take home and consume later, we all leave pretty happy.

Boy9 has sweets. I've cakes and chocs. BabyBoy2 has a new teddy.

Mrs. Amazing has lots of new medicinal drinks for Mummies.

And Miss5.

Well Miss5 walks home looking like a Christmas Vampire.

She couldn't be happier.

X

The School-Run Walk of Shame...

You can feel their eyes on you.

Asking questions. Why? How? Again? Those shoes?

You're flustered. Hot from running.

Child dragging behind you.

Obviously this is not the about the other walk of shame.

Not the 7am walk of shame, hungover to hell, clearly still wearing last night's clothes.

Maybe some party popper crap in your hair. Knowing that everyone can read you like a book.

Even the bus driver smiles as you mumble for a ticket. Yes everyone knows what you did last night. Personally I've never really felt shame in those moment. I've felt pride.

And had I had the time. And more sleep. And no hangover. Then I am pretty sure I would have walked about with a sign saying BOOM POW. And been high fiving everyone. (This was years ago obv.).

But then I'm male and Lad culture is stupid encourages that behaviour. Sadly.

So to experience the walk of shame. Now.

At my age, thirty-plurburerber (coughs). On the school run.

Was a crap surprise.

Mate: 'Alreet'

<Shows off 'Boom Pow' sign>

Mate: 'You been reading comics again?'

Yes. Obv. But that's not why I've got the sign... <Winks> <Raises eyebrows>

Mate: 'Your eye alright?'

Yes. Ask me why I'm holding the sign! And look <Shows clothes from last night>...

Mate: 'I don't care'

Don't be an arse. CARE!

Mate: 'Fine. Whateves. Why are you wearing last night's clothes, and holding a sign saying 'Boom Pow'?' <Sighs>

Sorry. A gentleman never tells

Mate: 'Then why make me ask?'

...

Mate: <Sighs> 'Hang on… You slept at mine last night!'

<Does shifty eyes>

Mate: 'We played computer games all night and then you went to bed, ALONE, with some wood and paints?'

I hate you You can be a right douchebag sometimes you know...

<Runs>

('What's in the bag?'

Douche's. Obv... It's labeled?)

I'd like to say it wasn't my fault.

That I had to experience the walk of shame. But that's a lie. It was me. Not on purpose. Not planned. Just... yeah whatever. My fault.

I had BabyBoy2 to drop off at nursery and Miss5 to get to school. The exact same time of day as normal. Yet for some reason. Me We left late.

We do a loop on our drop off run. First to BabyBoy2's nursery and then me and Miss5 double back on ourselves, and head off to her school.

So, joyously, we get the full force of a walk of shame.

The School-Run Walk of Shame.

My suspicions were raised.

About our lateness. When I saw a work colleague passing in front of us. He is sickeningly young. Mid-twenties. And as such doesn't arrive early at work. Or late. He arrives exactly when he needs to. On the dot.

Unlike people with children. Who like to arrive early so they can get ready for the day. Have at least two cups of tea coursing through their veins before adults start asking them questions.

Or just time themselves for sanity purposes.

Boss: 'So ready for another day of work?'

<Weeps> Hang on... <Downs cuppa>

<Eats biscuits>

<Checks emails, Facebook, random sites>

<Has a wee>

<Remembers where desk is>

<Makes another cuppa>

Boss: 'Ready now?'

Yes... <Clicks a few more websites>... Yep ready...

One question?

Boss: 'Yes?'

What is it... that we actually do here?

Is it eating cake? Coz then I'm well in...

Boss: 'I don't know why I talk to you in the mornings!' <Grumbles off>

<Whispers to college> What IS it we do?

<Is handed prepared script explaining what we do, with my name on it>

Thanks

It's a bad sign.

I normally pass Mid-Twenties much later on in our journey. Smeg.

I then pass a very old friend (in duration, not age). Despite being late. He's worth a quick chat.

But as he drops his daughter at the same school as I do and he’s heading the other way already...

Then late we must be.

I remind Miss5 she needs to scoot like the wind.

Scoot girl! SCOOT!

Apparently her legs now magically hurt. OK…

LIKE THE WIND!

We plough off and Miss5 does her best. I can't run because she isn't that fast on her scooter.

But we do a good pace. Until we wade into the stream of people going the other way.

I feel like salmon.

(Leap girl! Leap girl!

FishDaughter: ’You know there’s stairs right?’

… Really?... LEAP!)

Then The School-Run Walk of Shame starts in earnest.

I know a lot of the people passing me. Because they are Mums and Dads from Miss5's school.

Their children already dropped off. On time...

'Morning'

Morning

As we are going opposite ways. The conversations are light.

'Morning'

'Morning'

Morning, morning!

The Mums I know are kind.

I guess that they can see I am flustered. Late. And doing my best to corral Miss5 into school.

The Mums I know just say morning like it was a normal morning and we are stood in the playground waiting for a door to open.

Thanks Mums.

The Dads though.

Of which I am one and would be doing the same. Make no mistake. Aren't as nice.

They grin. They smile. They mock. They enjoy my discomfort...

'Oversleep?'

Sod off!

'Heavy night'

Go to hell!

'I've got that book you wanted?'

Shove it where the sun doesn't shine!

'... The north facing side of my garden? Huh?'

Schools are funny.

If you are on time. You end up waiting with the rest of the parents. At the school gates waiting for them to open. In a huge mass of people and children.

Then once the gates open a flood of people funnel into the school all moving in one direction. It's hard to go against it.

Some are rushing and nipping about. Others have all the time in the world, dawdling along.

There’s buggies everywhere. It's hard to move.

Then once the kids are dropped off the mass of people move the other way. And start streaming out of the school gates. You can the trails of people for about ten minutes after a school run. It's kinda of awesome.

And a battle field at times.

So when me and Miss5 arrive.

We hit the mass exit of people head on. And have to battle our way through.

Miss5 is fine and nipping about behind me. Adults that have children are like horses. They can weave their way around little people without putting their hooves down on things they shouldn't. It an parent magic power. Most of the time. Miss5 is fine.

Me though. I am getting bumped and knocked about. Having to wait. My progress is slow.

The Mums I know have gone past already. And now it’s the other people.

With looks of 'What a bad Dad?', 'Late? I wouldn't be late like that...', 'Typical man <Tuts>', 'That poor girl', 'Mrs. Amazing would never be late like this', 'Those trousers?', 'When will the BBC wake up and realise...'

It’s probably all in my head...

Then the stream of people stops.

Abruptly. CRAP! We really are late! Everyone else has had enough time to drop off their child(rens). Mill about a bit. Then leave.

And we've only just got on school grounds.

Smeg.

I tell Miss5 to scoot.

Miss5 has been very good and dismounted once we were on school grounds. As she is supposed to. But I want speed from her. I insist she scoots.

Despite knowing darn well she shouldn't...

Miss: 'OK. I suppose it doesn't matter if no ones here! I can scoot!'

Sigh.

I mentally add teaching her you can break the rules as long as you don't get caught lessons to showing Miss5 how to be late. Really going for the Dad win this morning.

We round the corner and it's terrible. Miss5's classroom door is shut.

I have to knock.

(C-3PO: ‘You sure this is the right place?’

R2-D2: <Beeps and whistles>

C-3PO: ‘Cool. Master Luke needs Vodka, 20 B&H,skins and three Curly Wurlys...’

R2-D2: <Beeps and whistles>

C-3PO: ‘Chewy? Screw him. He can get his own damn comb...')

They are nice.

They open the door and Miss5 bounds in. I apologise for being late. All the while wishing wish I had choosen to be dressed in full disguise this morning. Beard. Hat. Prosthetics. So Miss5's teacher doesn't know it's me.

'Oh no trouble at all, these things happen' she says. I hear 'Well that explains SO much...'

<Sigh>

<Runs out of school as still late for work>

<Stops moments just around the corner as is a bit tired>

<Strolls>

X