This week I was highly disturbed to discover that, in a long blond wig, I look just like a transvestite –
I spent the entire weekend in an itchy, sweaty wig pretending to be some sort of dodgy, senescent version of Goldilocks – and all in the name of Hallowe’en dress-up weekend.
Have you ever spent considerable amounts of time with your hand stuffed up a large bear? That’s also a very sweaty experience, believe me.
But once I’d sorted the wig and the bear, I just needed a frock, frilly socks and a bowl of porridge and I was good to go.
Oh well, at least the children knew who I was … unlike Frodo – back row far left –
who was mistaken for Ed Sheeran.
But the whole thing was a bit much for Daddy Bear, who went AWOL on Sunday evening and was later found in the staff room –
– rather the worse for wear.
And it turns out that I didn’t need the wig anyway – the children think my own hair is golden. Any colour lighter than black is described as blond or golden; there’s no such thing as ash, platinum, honey, caramel, auburn, mouse … we’re all blond.
Meanwhile, rehearsals continue for the end of year concert. The younger children get together every morning to form the Choir of the Damned (their teacher’s description, not mine) and then howl and screech their way through the repertoire of songs for the show.
If you’d like a taster, just click below –
and if that’s whetted your appetite, the CD will be available in time for Christmas.