It's the local town's music festival this week, and today, the 9 year old and all the other urchins in his class were taking part in the 'choral singing' section in a Methodist church .
Me and some of the mums sat nervously in the audience. We were nervous because for the last 9 years, the school has won the trophy, and the pressure was on. How on earth could a group of pink bat bashing, teeth smashing, breath holding little hooligans successfully defend the trophy???
They were competing against a class of posh, fee-paying schoolkids with lovely blazers and stripey ties, and another local school who were keen to get their hands on the trophy after 9 long years. Both these schools performed beautifully, and as our kids trooped onto the stage sporting an assortment of tatty trainers and wild hairstyles, we held our breath. (But not long enough for anyone to pass out!)
The sound that came out from that stage was fantastic. They belted out the hymn, 'Lord of all Hopefulness' and a lovely song called 'People for Peace.' Goosepimples were everywhere, and the mum who cried at the cricket match had a good cry here too.
After rapturous applause, the Simon Cowell man took to the stage and announced that our little darlings had won. The breath-holding champion was handed the trophy, and we all cheered.
We stood outside the church proudly, full of Hopefulness and Peace. 'Weren't they gorgeous!' we crooned.
Our angels filed out of the church. 'GET IN!' yelled one of the little lads, and squirted the church windows with his water bottle.
Well... they were gorgeous for a little while...
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