Desperate in his depression he said…

Many moons ago, when BB was still a dream he who helped create them didn’t share with me and when twin girl’s hair still rested by her ears and twin boy was still lovingly referred to as a chatterbox rather than the boy who never stops talking, myself and my two (almost three) year old twins went out for the day.

As they had been rather good of late (and really as I had only had them a couple of years I had no real concept of how naughty they could really be) we embarked bravely on a trip to the theatre to see The Tiger who Came to Tea.

Anticipation ran high in the car as I struggled to park anywhere near the theatre in the mid afternoon shopping rush. But still as they were only two (almost three) they didn’t shout fretful cries of “hurry mummy hurry” and “you are always late” and they most certainly didn’t question as to why I needed to locate two parking spaces side by side to accommodate my bus sized vehicle.

We arrived just in time, the twins nice and refreshed and ready to enjoy the show and me, slightly red in face from effort of carrying twins up the high street whilst also carrying a bag of two extra pairs of knickers, socks, trousers and two t shirts, two lots of snacks, two drinks, and a travel potty, all packed, just in case….

Slightly upset that I had arrived too late for the pre show bar we took our seats and watched the tiger come for his tea.

The first half went well, the tiger managed to ignore twin boy’s heckles of “it’s a man dressed up as a tiger” and twin girl’s rather loud out of place question of “is that my Daddy?”. When the interval came round I shot to the bar to discover a mile long queue of mothers waiting for their G and T’s. Not yet desperate I told my children they could choose some sweets and off we trotted in search of the lady with confectionery.

I am sure you all know what the sweetie lady looks like at the theatre. She is the one dressed in candy stripes holding a tray of midget gems, fruit pastilles and other chewy delights. She is Twin boy’s idol and when he spotted her he almost clapped with joy. Then as we trotted closer his smile literally turned upside down. His happiness dripped out of him with every step we took and I couldn’t work out why. The sweetie lady loomed large in front of us, and I say this literally as she was a bigger than average sized girl. Her tray was hooked around her neck and hovered too high for the twins to see the goodies that lay within. Twin Boy, almost desperate in his sudden depression, turned to me sadly as we finally reached the much longed for lady with the sweets.

“Mummy, there are no more sweets, she ate them all and now her tummy is very big.”

We were stood next to her as he prounced these words clearly concisely and for all to hear, and as hard as I prayed the ground didn’t open and we didn’t get swallowed up in one gulp.

We left the line quickly with twin boy stomping his little feet as I tried to mutter an apology to the offended woman. As we left twin boys voice increased in volume in a building which was designed to amplify “but she is fat mummy, her tummy was en – or – mous, she ate all my sweets like the tiger ate all of Sophie’s tea”

Face burning I couldn’t even return to the bar for a much needed glass of wine as the young bartender suffered from acne and I couldn’t risk the honesty of twin boy upon him….

Gotta love my kids…