Jurassic Vibes

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Grandchildren have to be the gift that keeps on giving, but why, in my case, is it always a North London cold that they bestow? Yes, another five nights with them and then another week in recovery. It's a pattern that keeps on repeating itself. Forget all those flu, RSV and Pneumococcal vaccines dispensed by the NHS to those of retirement age, what I need is something that protects me against the hotbed of germs that spread in nurseries.

On this occasion, our trip's main purpose was to celebrate Grandotty's third birthday. Wherever did those three years disappear to?  Both she and Little Sister were on fine form despite their running noses. Grandotty provides active entertainment, non-stop from 7 am until bedtime, whilst Little Sister has mastered the art of standing up and moving from one piece of furniture to another, putting everything she comes across into her mouth whilst generously smiling, kissing and waving. 

We had a family birthday party where I obviously missed the memo directing me to refuse cake after Grandotty  had blown out the candles, spreading her infectious bugs onto my piece. We also made a trip to Lightroom to see 'Discovering Dinosuars'. We'd been a little apprehensive as to whether or not this would be too frightening for Grandotty but when, amongst the reviews I checked, one aggrieved tourist was complaining that it was like being in an enormous creche with toddlers running around wildly, we knew we would be on safe ground.

In fact, on the day of our visit, those children present were impeccably behaved. It's an immersive documentary narrated in true David Attenborough style by Damian Lewis. The dinosaurs are immense and tower around you on screens filling three sides of the room which is four storeys high; the floor shudders as they move and when babies hatch, turtle like creatures are filmed scuttling along around your feet. Grandotty and Grandma were entranced although the only running they did was, pursuant to the narrator's invitation, up to the screen in front of us to stroke a baby triceratops.

Remember how, back in the sixties, The Flintstones confused a whole generation of children into thinking humanity was co-existing  with prehistoric pets called Dino? Yabba, dabba doo and all that. Here there were no people, just what appeared to be an enormous wildlife film, shot close up. It was so realistic, that I truly ought not to have been surprised when, as leaving, Grandotty asked, "Can we go and see some real ones now, Grandma?"

Oh to be three years old.

(Image by Eric Labayle from Pixabay) 

 

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