End of Term Exuberance

It was only when the aunts came up to say goodnight to the children that I realised how much we had packed into today. The clamour of voices vying to tell their important news rose in a voluble crescendo.

Youngest was first to show off her proud purchase – the first thing she has ever bought with her very own pocket money. She had saved her three rands for several weeks since her birthday, following her brother and sister’s example but today she couldn’t bear it any longer. We went to do the food shopping in Spar and she brought her money along. She had in mind the delights of the cheap plastic toys in the supermarket and with the dizzy sum of R23 in her purse was sure to be able to buy a hideous pink concoction guaranteed to break in a day. First we went to the bank though and on the way from there to Spar passed the enticing windows of Sheet Street - garish duvet covers and knick knacks in the window have often had us lingering, so on impulse we went in there. Youngest went from one possibility to another – a mug with a soft toy in, a cushion, a small teddy, a little painted box with a drawer and a butterfly in – all within her price range. Only when she’d checked out everything and considered the possibility that Spar might have something even better, did she make her decision. She would invest her funds in the butterfly box to keep her special things in. We went to the till and I counted out the cash for her. She solemnly took possession of the bag and put the receipt carefully into her purse. We even made it round Spar and past the toy aisle without her changing her mind and regretting her purchase. The joy of her new possession is just about equalled by the grown upness of the purchase.Sshe has been proudly informing everyone that she has a Receipt!

Once the aunts had admired the box sufficiently, my six year old was in line to show off her mouth, now devoid of front teeth as the tooth fairy is expected to visit again tonight. Those grown up teeth are coming through slowly so nothing but gaps make up her smile.

My son next to show off his glowing school report, written with such depth and understanding that it had our hearts melting with pride. He was completely quiet after we read it to him, but you could see gleams of satisfaction and self-worth emanating from him as he walked off with it carefully in its envelope.

The beautiful advent calendars that Granny brought from England were finally paraded for all to appreciate – the Twelve Days of Christmas for my son, The Journey to Bethlehem for my six year old fresh from playing Mary in the Nativity play and a lovely snowy town scene with animals in the stable for Youngest. Granny did a fine job choosing just the right one for each child and they are all pleased as punch!

The accounts of the school assembly then had to be listened to, and of the concert last night, as well as plans made for the holidays, including a proposed first ever sleepover at one of the aunt’s houses. Eventually all the important things had been communicated and bathtime ensued, hopefully to lead on quickly to an early night after all the excitements of the day.

P.S. After all I said yesterday about being relieved NaBloPoMo is over, here I am posting again already. I found myself composing in my head as I was cooking supper and had to write it all down to free up some head space..this looks like a pernicious blogging habit - I've got hooked!