The art of survival...... The Xmas play.

Now, every year like the good parent that I am I have to go to the children's primary school Xmas concert.

This is a fairly high profile affair which the whole valley attends and there is much comparing and contrasting of previous years and teachers, so all in all it's cut throat stuff.

Though not as dangerous as poultry bingo, the first few games of which one year were won by relatives of the caller. I thought there would be a riot and they were going to pounce on the number machine to see how he was fixing the results.

But anyway, in previous years this had consisted of a relatively brief little show with items from the infants and the junior class. Much appreciative applause when it was over and time to move on to the pub on the way home.

This trend to simplicity had clearly been noticed and a decision made to reverse it. in essence this meant a 2 1/4 hour extravaganza was inflicted on parents relies and the casual observer.

I think I survived the percussion band, just, then on came the juniors armed with recorders; my heart sank. A couple of numbers screeched through and two children produced violins, this was getting worse. Next, from somewhere a couple of guitars joined. Then, just as I was fishing for a knife to slash my wrists the cacophony came to an end.

We were then treated to two plays, one called babushka, delivered by the infants. To be fair this is a little valley school with about 30 children everyone gets a role of some sort and these children aged from 4 did really well.

Of course that was not all, we had the great juniors extravaganza, this was a remake nativity play set today with flashbacks to the bible tale. This featured all the Bethlehem's around the world (did you know there are 9??) and various scenes in various countries each of which required it's own song. I did start to wonder if we would end up doing the whole united nations but I think they did leave a few out.

Monumentally ambitious with a cast of about 15 with everyone having about 3 main parts each of which had been learnt over the preceding weeks. Tremendous effort all round and of really good experience that means my older children are so used to being on stage that they are all quite natural and relaxed.

Gwion was Herod though I didn't think it polite to ask if this made him the head of Israel or of one of it's neighbours.

Naturally not to be outdone by wise men (management still does not believe there has ever been three of those) every country gave the baby Jesus a gift. From Japan came a camera so that photos of the baby could go online using the computer given by the USA.

I could see a problem looming, getting up to stuff like that, Mary and Joseph would have child protection and the NSPCC all over them like a rash, I mused. And saying in mitigation they had to do it as the child was the son of god might not be an altogether wise idea either.

But of course this was a play, not real life. Of course not, if this was real life America's gift would be a stick of cluster bombs from an F18 and the British would mop up any survivors with Challenger tanks. Halliburton would then move in and pinch anything worth any money and charge for millions of meals they never cooked. Mary and Joseph would probably do OK if they got out quick enough. (Though the fact that Mary was 13, a single mum and hanging out with a lot older man who wasn't the father would have to be handled a bit carefully.) They would make a bundle on the film rights and McDonalds would cut them a deal to hand out free dolls with happy meals.

Ah yes, the Xmas play, makes your head go all funny so it does.