We’re reasonable people. It’s his first year, we thought. There’s dozens of kids. He still doesn’t speak so clearly as he might. We figured: one end or other of the donkey, perhaps. (Likely the back end if he persists in delightedly locking all the school toilet doors from the inside and crawling out underneath…) It’s a non-speaking part, yes, but he can bray with the best of ‘em. Or fart, whatever.
Or a stable cat; he can climb like one. One of a cherubic flight of angels if someone has a daft sense of humour. Or maybe – just maybe – a shepherd; the kid knows his sheep, after all. We’ve been quietly eyeing up potential stripey tea-towellage in case parents were supposed to provide costume.
I think the phrase I want is… goat rodeo.
There are no, repeat no worries about getting Harry into character here, but with this King in charge of following yonder star, the production will head in unexpected directions. Possibly the emergency exits.
I’mma bring popcorn.
Filed under: Parenting