IN the spirit of entering into school life we trotted along to the annual summer fair.

I thought this would be a great chance to get Ben a bit more familiar with the place while I could mingle with the other mums, and maybe pick up a bit more ‘intel’ on the ‘do’s and don’ts’ of reception year etiquette.

My, how fairs have changed since my day. I remember going along with a bag of coppers crossing my fingers that my ticket came out in the tombola, making a poorly fashioned badge that was a bit crumpled but you could still make out that I ‘heart’ Michael Jackson, and buying a dubious looking fairy cake.

I am not sure where all these old favourites have gone but it was all a bit fun fair like for my liking, with prices to match. I felt like I’d been hit by the hammer on the strongman stand when he told me it would cost me £2 for the privilege.

Likewise the bouncy castle was pretty much a pound a bounce.

I left the playing field thinking that I had been mugged. I thought a few twenty pence pieces here and there and a candyfloss for the way home would see us through but I spent the best part of a tenner and ended up with a badly made snake toy, a bow and arrow set that broke on impact and a slightly hyper four year old after consuming three lollies in quick succession having had an astounding run of luck on the pick a stick stand.

This, I thought, was a sign of things to come, I was already dreading Christmas when the festive fair/concert/craft day would no doubt see me haemorrhaging cash at an alarming rate. Ben would need his own expense account. Still he did seem to enjoy the hour or so we spent at school, my only worry is that he will expect the same level on entertainment every time he goes

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