My niece is four-years-old. It’s no exaggeration to say that her social life is better than mine – by some considerable distance.
In the past few weeks alone she has attended two kiddie raves (don’t ask), explored the ginnels of Skipton Castle (that’s alleyways to non-Northerners), seen Disney on Ice (Frozen, naturally), made baked apples at CommuniTree in the local park, attended a badge-making course, and spent many happy hours collecting conkers.
Over the same period I have sat at my computer, binge-watched DCI Banks, sat at my desk some more, and, er, that’s it. I did go to Skipton but only because my niece was making the trip.
Of course, I realise that keeping kids entertained doesn’t come cheap. While many children’s activities are free, lots require deep pockets. My sister jokes about taking out a second mortgage for Disney on Ice tickets, and I spend my fair share of cash on Peppa Pig magazines, Paw Patrol stickers, and something extremely odd called Shopkins.
As an Aunty, half-term doesn’t mean much to me.
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