Loads of the little vermin, everywhere.

June 26, 2005

I took Izzy to a birthday party yesterday. It was at a place called Scallywags near us, the sort of generic child's party/activity venue that seem to be making use of abandoned industrial units these days.

The format is pretty simple: you unleash your spawn into a soft play zone with slides, ball ponds and the like whilst the management try their level best to rinse your wallet at every given opportunity. There are little ride-on cars and lollipop machines, nothing obviously sinister or expensive, just enough to apply repeated abuse to your small change if your child senses any weakness. And obviously there's a counter where you can buy sugary drinks, sweeties and other infant Class A drugs.

So after an hour and a half the little bank-depleters were flagging a little and the party food came out. It's the sort of stuff that would make Jamie Oliver jump the counter and take a pool cue to the catering staff in an effort to mete out cuisine justice on the perpetrators. Now at this point Izzy is pretty good: she eats an infinately wider ranger of fruit and vegetables that I did or any of her friends currently do. It's one of the parental proud moments when your daughter lunges at and hogs the cucumber bowl.

Now, whilst she's busy wolfing down food like she's routinely starved (cucumber, cherry tomatoes, 3 small slices of pizza, one (1) chip, a breadcrumb shape containing an unknown meat and a chocolate mini-roll) I get the chance to see how other child-wranglers subjugate their genetic hybrids. My considered opinion is that there is a lot of variation. On the one side there are the well-mannered children who know that not everything green tastes like grass, whilst on the other:

Child A: who was caught spoon-feeding himself ketchup from the bottle.

Child B: who refused to remove a dummy from his mouth unless being spoon-fed cake.

and, in an awesome display:

Child C: who regurgitated an entire semi-digested fish finger onto her plate on top of her other food at high volume whilst other children sang Happy Birthday.

It's a crime that hard liquor isn't sold at these places.

It only took me to the word 'spawn' to realise that this was a mattgreen post! :)

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