I went to a party this weekend. A small person party. In fact, I was not intending to go, just to drop off. However, I was dropping off with the toddler who kind of ran off and wedged himself between all the children watching the children's entertainer. "Can you dance fast for me?" said the entertainer to the gathered throng. Toddler boy is an expert in fast dancing. He did a sort of speeded up marching step while simultaneously spinning for several minutes before he was momentarily distracted by a Teletubbies poster on the wall, started shouting "La La, Po" very loudly and attempted to climb the walls to the poster.
He then disappeared back into the throng and the entertainer put on a bubble machine. I could hear very loud whoops coming from the middle of the pack. Toddler boy is a big bubbles fan. Then the snow machine went on. Several seconds passed before a very small person bombed out of the crowd with a look of sheer terror on his face and threw himself on his mother. "What the hell was that?" he seemed to be saying. The children's entertainer then asked if anyone liked One Direction and proceeded to play one of their songs. Well, asking if anyone in our family likes One Direction is like asking if cats like fish or if my partner likes siestas. Toddler boy yelped and started screaming "Louis, Louis" [daughter one has moved on from Harry already, I think because of his penchant for women older than 12].
I had to keep rescuing toddler boy as he attempted to investigate the sound machine and the trunk full of gifts - unfortunately, one of the main gifts was a set of glow-in the dark dinosaur stickers. Toddler boy's mastery of the word dinosaur came in very handy, for once. He hollered "dinasaw, dinassssssaw" for all he was worth as I dragged him away.
Then there was a conga to the food, which rather confused toddler boy - he stared at the conga attempting to work out what on earth it was for. Why run round the table when you could just launch yourself on the crisps? He sat down and started sprinkling juice on everything. He then got bored of his own food and ran round the table trying to find an unoccupied seat so he could eat everyone else's food. When the cake turned up, guess who had wangled his way into prime position? Yup, Mr Uninvited. On the way home, I passed an advert for zumba fitness. I looked at daughter three, who was the one who had actually been invited to the party: "Who needs zumba when you have a toddler?" I asked.