Phew! So that’s half term out of the way. I hope you all survived the mayhem. I did but I can’t honestly say that I’m in one piece.
It was Martha’s birthday party and this year she chose the one place that paralyses me with fear. No, it wasn’t the ghost train at Blackpool Pleasure Beach, or IKEA on a Saturday afternoon for that matter. It was one of those pesky trampoline parks.
Now I did my research and told all the mums that if their children were under the age of six they would need to be accompanied by an adult. Seeing as Martha was turning six and is one of the older ones in her year, there were plenty who fell into this category. I apologised profusely as I handed out the invitations, knowing full well they weren’t going to be too chuffed at the idea of bouncing around with 26 excited children.
One little girl was desperate to come but didn’t have an adult to accompany her so I offered to step into the breach. Donning my industrial strength sports bra and extra protection elsewhere to prevent other mum-type mishaps (ahem), I was ready to brave it and bounce.
Well, firstly, let me tell you that I have never laughed so much in all my life. I was positively hysterical at one point and absolutely no use whatsoever to my charge, who incidentally was running rings around me. On more than one occasion she had to help me up when I got the giggles along with one of the other unfortunate bouncing mums.
Lucy doing a much better job of the straddle than me!
It all started when I realised I had forgotten to tuck my t-shirt in. I was going for it, determined to show the children what I had learned at school trampoline club. The straddle was one step too far I’m afraid, not the best move to attempt when wearing cotton trousers...I heard a rip, then more than a few gasps as I hovered in the air for what seemed like an age, with my wayward t-shirt covering my face and exposing everything else. Big mistake. Huge.
Perhaps it’s time that children were made to chaperone the adults instead? Just an idea.