Hail to the king

Sean trod the boards yesterday (well, the end of the school gym) with his first speaking part in a play. He was the king with Phoebe playing Violetta, his daughter, who wanted to be a knight. Cara was the narrator and five more of his class filled other roles. His lines were written on the table (he had four lines). His costume was "like a dress with a crown and a kind of cloak that went over my head under the crown." Sean said he was speaking into a microphone and seems to have overcome his trepidation. "I'm feeling nervous" he had told us at breakfast, just before Sharon upped the ante by deciding that Monday was the morning to put Stop'N'Gro on his thumb in an attempt to stop him sucking it. All hell broke loose: had we decided to amputate his thumb we could not have caused a bigger disturbance. That aside, he seemed unscathed by his first real public performance which was part of his class's ongoing project on castles. The whole class got a certificate.

Sean also won a Christmas card competition. A winner was picked from each class and Sean clinched the melting chocolate decoration for his class. He ate it. We were at the school fayre on Saturday although by the time we got there it was mostly a second-hand toy sale. Rowan threw a massive tantrum when we had to leave as he was enjoying playing with all the toys and the other two didn't cover themselves in glory either.

Sean and Finn were introduced to Monopoly at the weekend and Sean especially is enjoying the challenge of a new game. It's a good children's version with a smaller board and stalls at a fairground rather than property but it's a new experience for them playing a longer game. Finn did well despite the obvious counting challenges (two dice, money). Sean got "Who's Who" at the fayre and him and Finn were absorbed playing that too although Finn is again disadvantaged on the boy/girl question as he can't read the names. He's trying though.

Rowan continues to boss the house, and anyone else in "shouting at" range. His pal Duncan got the treatment at nursery on Friday as he struggled to get into his chair for lunch. "Stop moaning Duncan!" was the reprimand from the bold blond boy. "Shush Finn!", "Eat up Finn!" and "Sit down Finn!" are regular scolds at the kitchen table. Not that Rowan observes his own rules. He was in perpetual motion yesterday and is occasionally missing his nap with few ill effects. When I arrived at swimming he was trouserless, having been intercepted trying to get down the steps to join Finn in the pool and then having sat in a puddle.