Sunday, 11 September 2011

The School Fayre... or how to lose your sanity in one week...

The run up to the school fayre started in earnest last Monday and by Friday it was beginning to feel like we were spending most of our time in school.  Having been expected to perform miracles by spreading fifteen volunteers around forty stalls, a major headache was forming. An impossible task. Tuesday saw the sorting out of donations  and we already had some crackers - mouldy mugs, crusty salt cellars and someones old specs. My personal favorites this time though were a dancing ostrich thing (marginally less annoying than that singing (Don't Worry, Be Happy)  fish from a few years ago) and a Saddam Hussein puppet, complete with boxing gloves. After having spent hours sticking numbers to tombola prizes, we arrived on Friday morning to find that someone had hopped off with four them! Really you would have to be desperate.  I could not wait for Sunday morning....no more fayre and a welcome rest.

The day of the fayre dawned dull and rainy. What else? After phoning to cancel the goalie for beat the goalie, I headed off to the school for 9.30am, kids, home baking and raffle prizes in tow, not holding out much hope for a dry day. Wonder of wonders, it was.  Everything was going swimmingly until the teachers decided to turn up and complicate matters by changing the stalls they had volunteered for. They also did not help matters by putting only their christian names on my list. I only know some of them by their surnames.  One in particular had dragged along her husband who wanted to help, that was until I asked him to assist with the hoopla stall. He looked at me like I was a complete eejit and said with a deadpan expression 'I don't really think that's my kind of thing'. For fecks sake. It was a school fayre. What the heck was he expecting to help with? He shuffled off to help his wife make a make a complete a**e of the raffle. I sneaked off to my hair braiding stall where I put my head down and got on with it.  Strangely enough, the tombola tantrummer was back again this year, but this time trying to take more than the four tickets for a pound. Honestly you can't trust some folk. Then L spotted some kid trying to nick the used tickets for the games so they could reuse them again. Worse still one of the dads caught an adult trying to do the same thing. What a bloody sad case. Imagine having to resort to cheating at a school fayre...

Finally got home at three o'clock, the fayre having raised over £1600, to find the kids fighting over a two foot long Ferrari H had purchased. He wanted it for his Stuart Little toy. L decided her Barbies should be cruising in it. The fight started again this morning as the Barbies had parked it in L's toy cupboard while Stuart was back on his mini motorbike.....

Decided to head off to Glasgow this morning for a look at the shops. H spotted some Dr Who stuff he fancied. However I said it would have to go on his Santa list. He said he had no paper to write it down on, so I told him that wasn't a problem as it was only two things and he would remember. His reply was, straightfaced as ever, 'Mum, it's not the two things I'm worried about. It's the other thirty four I've already got on there.....'