"All line up!" we command, My Boy and I. "Two teams! James and Sam are the Team Leaders!" We are attempting to persuade sixteen Young' Uns to play Pass the Balloon.
It is like herding sheep. Except that I have never actually herded sheep, so how would I know? However I have watched Babe (one of my favourite films) so I know you need to talk politely in order to get anyone to do
what you want. After what seems an age, we have two teams, more or less lined up. We say Ready, Steady, Go before anyone drifts off in search of something better to do. Not everyone gets the idea that you pass the balloon over your heads in the
first round, then through your legs in the next round. I am helping out with James's team. We are valiant but, alas, defeated by the superior strength, age and application of Sam's team.
I forgot to tell you that most of the party goers are dressed up as super heroes. Sam is Iron Man, James is a Power Ranger. The guests include assorted pirates, Spider-Man, supermen and Bob the Builder. Who is, of course,
a Super Hero in my book. Me? I dressed up as a zebra, in my black and white stripey top. Not exactly a Super Hero but I did my best. The boys, loyally, said I looked OK.
There was a Ben 10 Bouncy Castle (no, I didn't, sorry to disappoint you), a party tea with all the trimmings, and a cake complete with a firework of a candle. We also managed an egg and spoon race and, of course, the traditional Okey Cokey.
"Did you enjoy your party?" My Boy asked His Boy at bedtime. James paused, for maximum effect.
"it was AWESOME!" he pronounced.