Poem // The School Christmas Fair

You’re tired and cranky;
It’s Friday afternoon.
You want to go home,
And not a minute too soon.
But it’s the School Christmas Fair,
You really should attend,
To show your support,
With lots of 50ps to spend.
The kids are excited,
As you wait outside in line,
But your mind is elsewhere,
Dreaming of post-bedtime wine.
You finally get inside
The packed school hall,
Stuck in the entrance,
Peering at stall after stall.
There’s the novelty tombola,
(I can’t believe they still exist!)
The prizes are out-of-date goods.
It’s really hard to resist…
You head to the cake stall,
To observe who else has baked,
And in turn end up buying back,
One of your own cupcakes.
“20p?!” you (internally) shout,
“Are you kidding me?!”
“I was up baking and icing these,
Until gone half-past-three!”
But you buy one anyway,
Because you forgot* to keep one back.
*That’s a complete lie,
It was a delicious naptime snack.
How much longer do I have to stay?
How many more pennies do I waste?
Oh look, penis-shaped festive balloons!
The teachers have funny taste!
The line to see Father Christmas
Is ridiculously long.
Especially for a teacher in fancy dress,
Wondering what he did wrong…
After a few more smiles,
And exchanging pleasantries
I take myself, and two hot children,
Outside to run free.
We’ve escaped the throngs,
We’ve journeyed through the hall,
I look down at my smiling children:
They’ve had an absolute ball.

Hannah