Take Your Mummy Head Off

last weekend i attended one of my best friend’s hen celebration, a festival jaunt in deepest herfordshire with a number of lovely ladies, a smattering of burlesque outfits, a twenty year old german camper, a husband and 4 and a half month old baby. i was looking forward to recapturing a little of my previous life [pre-birth of son] and proving to myself these kind of days were not over. it was harder than i thought. it ws lovely to be a part of the fun and glorious to see my good friend on such good form and excited about her forthcoming marriage to a wonderful man but the times when i felt truly involved were less than i hoped due to the new other awareness that has now become fully ensconced in my life. every child, particularly male chidlren where my own son and as teh evening wore into night and the gathered becomes more undone i became increasingly preoccupied with the well being of those children still wandering about, many apparently parent and/or guardian less. even the best festivals are mixed affairs. a kaleidescope of the very best and very worse that we can be, the very best and very worse of where are desires lead us. but i couldn’t help feeling that children should be given leave of the difficult Β weighing up of humanities virtues and vices that will preoccupy a large part of the adult life. they should be free of seeing people they trust wide eyed, throwing up, acting out. fancy dress is all very well so as you remember that make believe has to give way to reality some time.

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