Birthday boy

On Saturday 9 March my parents, grandparents and various other extended family members piled into a church hall in Dulwich to celebrate my nephews first birthday.  With Mark away and one still being a very young age I passed on a traditional party for Alby, spending the day instead amongst the chaos of London Aquarium during half term.  I thought he would be too young to appreciate a party. Once again, I have been proven a fool.  Joey’s party was amazing and as much as the grown ups all enjoyed it, the younger ones had the time of their life. 

The birthday boy

With a dozen other babies and toddlers to walk with I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alby run about so much.  For three hours he was a ball of bouncing energy – running, spinning, climbing, running, throwing, laughing, crawling, running, dancing, shouting, stomping.  Oh, and running. 

Alby on top form throughout

Two memories of the day stand out:

To set the scene slightly, my dad disappeared for the first half hour of the party.  One presumes that he was having a bit of quiet time in order to fully prepare both mentally and physically for the chaos which was about to ensue.  On finally deciding to join us he settled down with his newspaper, a good distance from where his own mother has settled herself.  An hour later, with no harm done, he finally stepped into granddad mode and joined Alby on the floor for a bit of playtime.  It started simply enough – my dad throwing a Squishy Grabby Thing (and yes, that is it’s proper name) at Alby and another little boy called Patrick.  It would bounce off them and roll away.  One of the boys would run to collect it, return it to my dad and the game continued.  The game continued until Alby ran to get the Squisky Grabby Thing but returned with a wooden peg, which he lobbed at my dad.  In the blink of an things went from innocent fun to the stuff nightmares are made off. Following Alby’s lead not only did Patrick decide to throw a wooden peg at my dad but around five other children thought they’d get in on the act too.  One ricocheted off my dad’s glasses and I’ve never seen him move so quickly. 

There was nothing short of sheer panic in my father’s eyes as six toddlers all with arms flaying ran for him.  When faced with nothing but pure, basic instinct to save him my father proved himself all man – he ran for it.  Yes indeed, when they come to close the book on my dad it will state when it came to “fight or flight” by father was a true pacifist.  Lucky for him, he didn’t have to run far.  As it turns out the one sure way for an adult to defeat a mob of sugared up toddlers is simply by standing up.  Turns out than when left with just knee caps to play with they aren’t so bothered.

The second incident was of true Health and Safety brilliance.  Having decked out the room with decorations toys and play mats it turns out that the most popular place to play was on the large trolley the folded tables are usually stored on.  With a flimsy metal frame, unstable base and wheels this was, obviously, the must have toy for any self respecting toddler.  At one point there were seven little ones running on and off it, hanging on the top bar and jumping so much it shook.  It took a whole two hours before any of the parents thought to put the brake on the wheels – well done Jim! 

Trouble Monkeys on the day's most loved toy