Very occasionally, Hearth-Father has to do Gertie's 'ballet run' when I am otherwise engaged.
We were driving to her ballet class last week when Gilby piped up from the back seat, "Mummy, shall I take you to this little pub I know where Daddy and I go sometimes when ballet is on?"
Now. Where to start? Best not to, methinks.
Anyway. The day of the ballet exam finally arrived at the weekend. There was much fussing and an hour's worth of rehearsal beforehand. Ribbons and hairnets and hairspray and endless tying of ballet shoes. This was, of course, enough to send Gilby, Eddie and Daddy running for this little pub they know...
And on the way home? After their respective afternoon exertions? Well. It's hard work in that pub!
Currently Reading: Falling by Elizabeth Jane Howard