Down with brown

On Monday I got home from work at 6.45 and was almost bowled over by my daughter demanding I produce a brown long sleeved t-shirt and brown trousers for her to take to school the next day.

We are not a brown clothes family, we are a black clothes family. Between the four of us the only item of brown clothing was a suede skirt I got from Dorothy Perkins sale which would probably be big enough for half her class to camp in.

It was close to 8 o'clock when I finally managed to find out she was going to be a tree, in the end of term concert, and the dress rehearsal was on the Tuesday and the concert was on Thursday.

I told her I would do my best to get her brown things even though the shops were full of pink and lemon and pale blue and other summery colours. But, there was no way I could manage this before she went to school the next day. I wrote a letter to her teacher explaining all this and assured Ysabella that this really would be ok and that her teacher wouldn't hate her forever.

As luck (?) would have it, I had an unexpected day off (see Fit to Burst blog) so I cruised the local charity shops and did eventually manage to find (non-matching) brown shirt and trousers. I dashed back to school where the teacher smiled sweetly and said that I really shouldn't have gone to all that trouble.

That evening I washed the brown things, I dried the brown things, I turned up the trousers.

Last night it was the concert. In came the children. Some dressed as astronauts, some dressed as aliens, some dressed as planets, some dressed as black trees and one, yes ONE, dressed as a brown tree.

The concert was crap.