James Proclaims!

Last week’s post celebrated a glorious sunny day during half-term, which I’d hoped would be the start of summer after an inauspicious few days, in which the main meteorological offer was precipitation. Today’s post, written only a day after its predecessor, finds me once again attempting to entertain my children with a return to the drizzle and therefore little on offer in the way of playparks and ice-cream.

There was a brief attempt at a playpark, this morning after Little Proclaims’ swimming lesson, when the rain was clearly en route but had not yet arrived. It was overcast and slightly chilly but my daughters made the best of what was available and the lack of sunshine appeared to have kept the crowds away, so they pretty much had the run of the place. Which was good, as both my children like to run. And shout. And a play park is a great place for that.

A slightly less ideal place for children to run and shout is IKEA, which was our next stop. Neither of my offspring felt in any way restricted though and viewed IKEA as an ideal sequel to their earlier fun, with display sofas and divans serving as ideal apparatus for bouncy fun. I played the part of a harassed father trying to curtail the delinquency of my daughters, but, truth be told, I had elected on the Swedish furniture store as the ideal location for rainy day fun with my children. They absolutely love it, and, a few irritated flat-pack enthusiasts aside, I can’t see too much harm is done by letting my children run amok in the Scandinavian superstore. I could clearly see other parents doing exactly the same thing, while pretending, like me, to be in the market for bedroom furniture.

Mini Proclaims, in particular, was unhinged. She was literally squealing with delight as she bounced on mattresses, hid in wardrobes and giggled at her own reflection in multiple mirrors. Little Proclaims was a tad more circumspect, and while she too enjoyed some tactile fun with home furnishings, she was wise to the opportunities on offer to acquire more stuff. Little Proclaims very much enjoys acquiring stuff and often puts forward compelling arguments as to why I should part with my wages to provide her with stuff. She caught me on a good day. IKEA is not only the world’s foremost purveyor of ‘build-it-yourself’ furniture. It also boasts a range of other delights, which includes a selection of toys and activities. Activities are, of course, always good, and anything that can keep Little Proclaims occupied on a rainy day is alright by me. And so as I write this, and as Mini Proclaims naps away her morning’s exuberance, Little Proclaims is making ‘art’ out of beads. IKEA calls them Pyssla beads, but they may have another name if purchased elsewhere. All I know is they’re keeping a five-year-old quiet and have done so for more than an hour. Which means that they have already paid for themselves.

I did, at one point, entertain the idea of trying to do some serious shopping in IKEA. There are no shortage of home improvements that could happen at Proclaims Towers, and while the economic conditions are not right for any big jobs (the economic conditions being a distinct lack of disposable cash at present), there is perhaps scope for some minor acquisitions. I was, for a moment, taken with the idea of buying some new net curtains (which was almost as exciting as my recent foray into rotary washing lines), but, though I had taken the appropriate window measurements before setting out, it turns out that net-curtain buying requires more concentration than can reasonably be afforded to someone attempting to supervise a lively five-year-old and a, frankly, feral two-year-old.

So I bought a 600g packet of ginger biscuits instead. Which I didn’t need, but which IKEA do sell. Little Proclaims alerted my attention to them as we were leaving with her other ill-gotten gains and for some reason, perhaps because at that point I had lost all reason, it seemed like the most logical purchase I could make. In fairness they are delicious. Which is just as well, because 600g is a lot of biscuits.