25 Jan 2012

Hestia and Sonshine and Robert Burns

And so it came to pass that P7 decided to celebrate Robert Burns' birthday with a Burns Supper in the afternoon. According to Sonshine, it is taking place at Mount Stuart.  Previous years have been at The Glenburn Hotel.

When you're 11, they probably look like the same building to be honest.

Sonshine has a part to play - he and a friend are reading out some autobiographical deets of the Bard and we have practised and practised, marking spaces where a pause will add meaning, scribbling down pronunciations of words like 'Souter' (sooter) and 'Kirkoswald' (erm, Kirk Oswald).
I ask him this morning if he would like to wear the tartan tie that bears his name. Yes, there is a Sonshine clan and it's rather a pretty tartan too.  He opts to wear it.  Sadly, it was bought when he was about six, so the tie tail dangles somewhere between his invisible pecs.  He flexes them regardless of their non-existence.

He has been weighed at school.  My son is, apparently, overweight.

I tell him that's the end of the Nobbly Bobblies* after dinner.

He is crestfallen and decides he'd rather be 'fat.'

He is 11.

He wobbles his man boobs at me as I tie his tie off for him. I ignore him. He grips his tummy with both hands and wobbles it at me.  I ignore him.

I tell him he is 11 and he will shortly be making the journey into adolescence.  He needs all the wobbly bits he can get, I tell him with early-morning bed-head candour.

He decides that if he is to stand up and speak in front of his entire class this afternoon at the Supper, he needs 'a mask'.

I tell him we are fresh out of Robert Burns masks and the teacher will not take too kindly to Darth Vader doing the reading.

'I want my dad's See You Jimmy Hat.'  That will act as a disguise.' he decides.

Did this man EVER get a shag again?

Despite my assurances that Clean Amy will most definitely NOT fancy him in a ginger wig and tartan tammy that plays a tinny chorus of Auld Lang's Syne, he insists.

I grudgingly find the hat in the Hat Box and pack it into his school bag.

I find a poem.  Tae a Pie.  In the best of literary traditions, I give you the original hand-written notes and the final draft, presented to teacher:

I believe that the poem's subject matter may yield another little round reason why he's on the cusp of overweight.  

Happy Burns Night!  For those of you who have not seen this - a link to Robert Burns' famous tale - Tam O'Shanter.  This is the first of his poem's studied at school - given that it's about getting drunk, getting lusty thoughts and witchcraft, it's a wonder it's still fit for the Curriculum for Excellence.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go out to buy some haggis, potatoes and turnips for tonight's traditional dinner. *grabs own tummy with both hands and wobbles it*

....oh yes, have just been reminded that if you REALLY want to frighten your granny and shock the minister, learn the words to Cock Up Your Beaver.  Honest.  Real Robert Burns poem ;-)

 * Just in case you were AGOG wondering what a Nobbly Bobbly was ;-)


  1. "deets"? What, are you, like, twelve? :)

  2. Yeah, well, like, whatever :-) DETAILS, DETAILS!!! I was trying to be down and happening with the kids.


    1. Oh gawd, just don't start wearing baseball caps backwards and your jeans half way down your arse, OK?

    2. I need to have lost a GREAT deal of weight before that jeans/arse situation arises :-)

  3. I love the pie poem! And Happy Burns Night!

  4. It's pretty good, isn't it? I wonder how much the teacher supplied and how much was his own work! I am very suspicious, but his Remembrance Day poem was absolutely excellent. But I'm his mother, so I *would* say that. It's m'job.


  5. Brilliant, Brilliant poem, that son of yours clearly has a way with words, just like his Mum.
    Happy Burns night.

    1. Thank you Dash! I keep trying to get onto your blog, but the mac just keeps spinning. I don't think that Safari and blogger like each other - I WILL get there though!

  6. Fantastic Poem. I'd like his permission to recite it at our next Burn's supper. I missed this year on account of being in Salt Lake City. Blah!

  7. Please do - but I hope that it's not a scotch pie that gets delivered up to the top table, there will be a riot ;-)

  8. Another great post Ali, Sonshine definitely has the makings of a true Scots Bard. Please ask him to do one for whisky for next year.
    Ah, Haggis, Neeps and Tatties, I do miss them as well as a Scotch Pie, soaking in grease and miscellaneous mutton. Why are the contents always gray?

  9. Fabulous - proper folk poetry never stands still. I had haggis neeps and tatties on Burns Night and forgot how filling it is. Felt like a drifting afterwards.

    And deets are netter than neets :)

  10. I was wondering what a Nobbly Bobbly was. A poem devoted to pie is lovely. :)

  11. brilliant poem....I thought it was like real like from a book or something!! your boy's a star.....!


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