The Frog Pyjamas

Two mums, one blog, two takes on parenting

Nativity hazards: parental expectation and the Christmas camel

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Two years ago, with Christmas fast approaching during the Heir’s nursery year at school, the following exchange took place:

The Heir’s teacher: I asked your son to be Joseph in the Christmas Play.
Me: [Surge of maternal pride]
Teacher: But he didn’t want to be Joseph.
Me: Oh dear.
Teacher: He saw the other costumes and has chosen to be…
Me: [brief moment of hope reignited – a shepherd? a wise man?]
Teacher: … A camel.
Me: [hope fades]

In fairness, the Heir embraced his chosen role with enthusiasm, and managed on the big day to at least appear to be in the right place at the right time throughout. If I had never before seen a camel divide its time between picking its nose and fiddling with its genitals, I was merely grateful that the latter remained inside his camel costume for the duration.

Similarly, when the Spare made his theatrical debut on the same stage a few short weeks ago, it coincided with a seasonally inappropriate enthusiasm for naturism. While all around me parents willed their little darlings to remember song lyrics and steps, I prayed that mine would keep his clothes on.

Having now enjoyed/endured (delete as appropriate) a grand total of four pre-prep nativity plays, I have a healthy respect for the hard work that goes on behind the scenes. No wonder the teachers look exhausted by the end of term – those twenty-odd minutes the children spend on stage represent hours and hours of hard work scripting, rehearsing, creating costumes and generally ensuring that everything is perfect for an audience of expectant parents.

The first problem these long-suffering staff encountered was at the casting stage: the Spare came triumphantly home and announced that he was going to be a polar bear in his year’s nativity. Intrigued to know how such an unlikely animal might be scripted into the traditional setting, I questioned his teacher who confirmed this was just wishful thinking on the part of the Spare. I wondered briefly whether his sheer strength of mind might result in a hasty relocation of Bethlehem to the Arctic Circle, and was relieved when, reconciled to the absence of his favourite animal, he chose instead to be a star.

Then there is the learning of lines and songs. As both my sons are currently obsessed with all things lavatorial, it came as no surprise when rehearsing the songs at home that they quickly replaced several key official words with base interjections of their own. Cue much sniggering and egging each other on to further excesses of silliness until almost every other word of several songs had been substituted. After many fruitless attempts to make them stick to the correct lyrics, I decided to turn a deaf ear and thankfully they were neither brave nor foolish enough to treat their teachers to their own versions.

On the big day, the audience were requested, politely but firmly, not to wave at their children whilst on stage as they would be “in character”. We were also asked not to use flash photography because not only would it distract the children but would interfere with the quality of the professional DVD that was being recorded (yours for £16…) The DVD creates an additional hazard the savvy parent quickly learns to avoid – being interviewed on the way out and immortalised on camera. The first year O and I can be glimpsed ducking out of the way, but we have now perfected the art of lurking behind until some other poor soul has been preyed upon then making a dash for freedom. This is probably a good thing as I am not sure my contribution of “that was hysterical” would be greatly appreciated among the misty-eyed “it was wonderful”s and “they did so well”s delivered by other, more sentimental parents.

Of course I do think it is wonderful and I am thrilled that my boys have the confidence to stand on stage and deliver lines to a packed theatre at such a young age, but thus far my overwhelming feeling afterwards has been of relief that they weren’t centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. Hopefully the year will come when I can just sit back, relax and enjoy the show, but I am not quite there yet.

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One thought on “Nativity hazards: parental expectation and the Christmas camel

  1. S’s school doesn’t do a nativity, it’s a Christmas themed play. This year it was ‘5 Gold Rings’ and like your 2 the only humour is toilet humour at the moment so we have had ’12 days of…’ (insert various euphemisms for bodily functions).
    Great post, spot on.

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