In the interest of using my blog to capture the highs AND the lows of our little family adventures:
Our Bonfire Night…
(Nonfire Bite. Apparently?)
It was Saturday 5th of November,
So it seemed like a spiffing idea,
To seek out a nice, local bonfire,
Something low key, and friendly, and near.
We knew of a tiny quaint village,
All cutesy and sleepily paced,
Which seemed to tick all of our boxes,
So an order for tickets was placed.
We bundled the tots and their jumpers,
And their multiple scarves in the car,
Plus some earmuffs, 4 coats and 8 wellies,
For our journey, which wasn’t too far.
We pulled into said sleepy village,
Showing 7pm on the clock.
When suddenly deep in the nowhere,
We reached an apparent gridlock?
A million cars and their drivers
All jammed into a dark country lane.
So, our vehicle duly abandoned
We tagged onto the passenger train.
The walk seemed to go on forever.
In the dark, with the mud, up a hill
As we dragged both The Girl and her brother
Whilst pretending to maintain good will.
But just as our venue drew closer
We were struck with a strange sense of doom.
Hearing “SCREAM IF YOU WANNA GO FASTER!”
As it pearced through the dark, smokey gloom.
We had hoped for a family occasion,
And a magical sparkly night?
We were met with a zillion people,
Swigging lager by flashing strobe light.
We considered just turning and leaving,
but by this time it just seemed too late,
So we sucked up our vexed disappointment,
And were herded on in through the gate.
With each of us gripping an infant,
Some gloves and a welly or two.
We stopped to take in our surroundings,
As we figured out what we should do.
We bustled our way through the people,
Past the dodgems away from the crowd
Just fighting to all stay together,
And find somewhere that wasn’t so loud.
All prospects of food were abandoned,
Once we spotted the hideous queue,
Then we shuffled to seek entertainment,
But found that was impossible too!
So we huddled alone in the darkness,
On a muddy and damp patch of grass.
Checked our watches – with 40 to fireworks.
We’d just have to allow time to pass.
And we really did try to be jolly,
As we jiggled about merrily,
Whilst the world and it’s dog staggered past us,
To the bushes to head for a pee?
The crappy DJ worked his “magic”,
With his notably naff repertoire.
As we both counted down to “The countdown”.
Just to get us all back to the car.
The Boy – by this time – was exhausted.
We were fighting to keep him awake.
The Girl was both grumpy and freezing.
This whole evening had been a mistake.
But then just at the end of our tether,
When we thought all excitement had gone,
We were given one final redemption,
As we counted from ten down to one…
The first rocket whooshed through the darkness,
Those that followed it sparkled and flared.
The Boy turned his head away sleeping,
While The Girl said “Don’t like it. I’m scared”.
The hub and I glanced at each other,
“Shall we go then and beat the mad rush?”
By this point we were dreading the traffic
So we left with a shove and a push.
With our backs to the exploding skyline,
We trekked back alone to the car
Each heaving a heavy tired toddler,
And remarking how “blessed” we both are.
We limped our way home in exhaustion,
Feeling fractious and starving and beat.
The evening had not been a sparkler,
And all that had burned were my feet.
No parkin had passed by my pie-hole,
Not a marshmallow held to the fire.
Not a wintery family adventure,
Just a loud and chaotic quagmire.
So despite having always loved fireworks,
Next November I think that we’ll pass.
And chill out with a large glass of vino.
Mr Fawkes – you can go kiss my ass!