I felt the need to reflect on WBD – my first year without a child at Primary school for some time. I did 12 years of primary school WBD’s, so I feel it’s worth a few moments’ reflection.
Those of you who have read my blog: Own Clothes Day, will know that WBD and I have not always been comfortable bedfellows. So it was with much amusement that today I was an observer and not a participator. My first observation was to work out what WBD stood for. I saw it written in a couple of Facebook posts before I worked it out. At first, I thought they were referring to the accountancy firm that I use, who have the same abbreviation. It did occur to me fairly quickly, however, that Harry Potter has little to do with tax. Once I had worked this out, post after post came streaming in, with photos of Hermiones and Harry Potters still seeming to be top of the WBD pops.
Number 1 friend had been moaning about the fact that her son’s school had given strict guidelines on what was and wasn’t allowed this year – presumably to prevent lazy parenting. These new rules would have f***ed me right over, as a Shrek onesie would no longer be allowed. What schools need to understand is that it isn’t being lazy sending your kid in as Wally, with a red and white striped t shirt and their sister’s glasses, it’s called survival.
Back to Facebook and I was amazed and impressed at the efforts that had been made. That is, until it got to this afternoon and I realised that the kids who looked incredible, had their photos displayed by proud mummies on fb faster than Mills and Boon publish books. By the afternoon, the quality of effort was showing a marked deterioration: am I the only mother who cheated on WBD, a mother had posted, adding: he went as a footballer with the Liverpool FC Annual tucked under his arm…well it’s a book isn’t it? Then came the photo of the two children holding a toaster and a hairdryer, with the caption: forgot to make a costume…so they’re going as pages 89 and 165 of the Argos catalogue. This, is genius. The final post I saw was of a child dressed brilliantly as a super cute ballerina with dog ears and whiskers and a nose painted on her face. The fb post read: Dogs don’t do ballet. Aaah, I thought, how cute. She’s obviously been put in the ballerina dress as an easy option for mum and has insisted on having her face painted as a dog – that’ll teach the mother for shirking, I smiled to myself. I then looked closer at the photo and saw that she was holding a book titled: Dogs Don’t Do Ballet, and the effort suddenly appeared very real.
So I have spent all day feeling in awe and relieved, that I no longer have to compete with the creative brilliance that clearly exits in this country. I was feeling rather smug about it, until Daughter 4 just came to me and said: it’s World Book Day tomorrow, Mum. My heart sank into my slippers and I felt a cold sweat coming on, but I’m not going to dress up, she continued, I can’t be bothered.
I now don’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty that my WBD negativity has obviously rubbed off.
By the way, just to prove that, at some time in the distant past, we did all try:
I’ve worked out Pippi Longstocking, far right, but haven’t got a bloody clue who the other two are. Any ideas?
I hate WBD with a passion. Says it all that Sainsburys now stock a WBD range. Meg still holds it against me for sending her in a bin liner, 10 years she’s held that grudge. No idea what she was supposed to be either.
You’d just had enough of her and ‘put her in the bin’. We’ve all used that threat, but only a select few have actually had the guts to do it – I applaud you.
Ok, so the kids have informed me that it’s Tweedledum far left and Milly Molly Mandy…who’d have known?