Tuesday, January 17, 2006

The Christmas Grotto

The Tent-Grotto. Not the actual one because when I tried to take a real photo, That Nice Mr Parkin said I would have to pay money and also because all the baby children started making stupid faces and showing me their Thomas the Tank underpants.

So, four thousand miles later, we are in the freezing brightly lit village square at the Christmas market. It is crowded with millions of people all bundled up. If you knocked anyone over, they would roll into the next person and they would roll into the next person; you might even get the great crowd of carol singers huddled next to the automatic loo-a strike! I begin to wonder then, who would be the best person to start this off and how could I do it? I look round. Mrs Trundle, my teacher, has collared dad next to the candle stall. Amy, teacher's pet, teacher's daughter, is standing next to her. She is talking and eating at the same time-I wish I could do that. I duck down, hoping that Mrs Trundle doesn't have a chance to talk to dad about the last science lesson.
And how Amy fell down.
Because she honestly just got in the way and she wasn't hurt-not much anyway. Actually, Amy rolls quite well. I could sneak up and accidentally fall into dad and he could fall into Amy, then the whole Christmas crowd would tumble onto the frosty ground. Now that would be interesting. I bend low to make my charge when mum says.
'It's all so magical!' She pulls me upright. 'Look at the tree and the decorations!'
Mrs Trundle smiles and she and Amy are sucked back into the crowd. Dad is beaming as he fights his wayover to us, so Mrs Trundle must have kept quiet about the science lesson.
'Have you seen Father Christmas' grotto?' he shouts over the carol singers. He's pointing at a large white tent. This is standing outside a row of normal shops, which are closed. The tent grotto has tiny white lights all around it and some sort of green plant growing around the door. We go and join the queue. It is jiggling with baby children and I'm glad I can't see anyone I know (Amy doesn't count).
You think this is bad well, it gets worse-tune in for more.
Cheers
Wilf

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