I have to confess that on paper today did not look good. My friend Andrea with whom I am subsidising the resurgence of popular theatre in the UK, had bought tickets to an amateur production of Return to the Forbidden Planet for us and my girls as their birthday treat. For those who don’t know, Return to the Forbidden Planet is a musical which uses both the popular hits of the fifties and sixties and the plays of Shakespeare to tell a story about true love, aliens and rock ‘n’ roll in deep space. It is quite bizarre at the best of times, at the worst of times it could be terrible.
To the threat of amateur theatrical disasters was added the fact that this extravaganza was in Birmingham, and that we were going there by train. All manner of things could have gone horribly wrong. Plus, I was feeling like crap and the kids have been playing up all week.
If you had given me the option of the day above or being poked with pointy sticks in a coal cellar with commentary by Tony Blackburn I’d have had to think long and hard before making my choices. I was not optimistic.
Nevertheless, in the Boo household we rise to a challenge, so we did.
And all things considered we had a great day. It was just one of those days where everything aligned beautifully with no effort at all. The queue for the tickets at the train station was manageable and swift, the train was early into the station with plenty of room for us and actually left on time. Even better, when I stopped at the coffee stand to pick up something drinkable before boarding, the bloke took a shine to the girls and gave them a free ice cream each. We were astonished, astonished and grateful.
Andrea was meeting us at a station further up the line, which had the potential for all sorts of disaster but actually went swimmingly. The kids were really well behaved and didn’t whinge or run about screaming. In fact things went so well that to begin with Andrea and I were even more convinced that it meant that pure evil was sure to await us further down the line.
We got there with an hour to spare, found that the theatre was two minutes walk from the station and actually managed a very profitable half an hour in Borders and then a trip to Hotel Chocolat where the kids got free chocolate to boost their by now dipping sugar levels.
At the theatre they got given more free sweets, three times in fact, and were offered more, but by then I had to draw the line because they were beginning to get a bit beady eyed. I expected protest but even they realised what an exceptional run of luck they’d had and decided to keep schtum.
The play was hilarious for all the wrong reasons, but the kids loved it because they didn’t see all the terrible bits and we loved it because we did. It was fantastically bad on the grandest scale and provided two hours of stellar entertainment to the point where I now have bruised ribs where Andrea nudged me so many times. It was just the ticket, and by god you had to give them points for enthusiasm.
Afterwards we schlepped off to Selfridges food hall and spent a delightful hour filling our faces at the Morelli’s Gelato outlet eating ice cream sundaes as big as our heads. Tilly ended up with a chocolate moustache to rival Dali and Tallulah was practically nose down in hers, happy as a pig in muck. We adults behaved in a much superior fashion, eating and eating and eating until we felt sick.
When we were suitably sticky we upped and trotted round Pedlars, The White Company and Cath Kidston making covetous noises and wanting lots and lots of lovely things. I sometimes despair that my children will ever be civilised, and then I spend a day like this with them and I have hope once more. Not for long, but just enough to keep me going until the next time.
An unexpectedly fabulous day
How lovely, and so well timed given this past week!
Sharon
Oh yes. They have a bit of wiggle room for the next week now.