On Friday, I held a party to launch The Trouble With Mummies, in Toppings bookshop in Bath. I took along one or two bandages, some helmets and a lot of chocolate – and for a couple of hours we mixed up history and cultures and wrapped up some children.
Thank you to the children involved. I will keep your identities safe (although I may use these photos in later life for blackmail) And a big thank you to Kathleen and the crew at Toppings for making the evening go so well.
And, most importantly, they’ve got a big heap of signed copies of the book – so do just ring the bookshop and get them to post them on if you fancy a copy.
This photo taken on May 12 1973 – almost exactly 40 years ago, shows my dad dressed up as a west Saxon. I can tell he’s a West Saxon because the bloke standing in the truck is
definitely dressed as Alfred the Great – and even if my Grandmother’s careful copperplate wasn’t telling me as much on the back of the picture, I’d know it was 40 years ago by the policemen’s trousers.
I think Dad was campaigning for an organisation called Countdown (nothing to do with the telly programme) more to do with overseas aid. The connection with the West Saxons escapes me, but he liked nothing better than the opportunity to dress up. Saxon, Norman, Roman, they were all the same to him – and despite being a grandfather, he never lost his enthusiasm for the dressing up box.
I’d like to engender that same spirit in you all.
Today, The Trouble With Mummies is published – and besides buying a copy from a bricks and mortar bookshop (which will set you back a mere 5.99 – that’s one coffee in Geneva airport, two at Bristol and five instant coffees from the WI) and in recognition of the part that dressing up plays in the book – you can also dress up and show the world how you look. The splendid folk at Hot Key have been running a dress your mummy as a mummy competition The only entry I’ve actually seen so far is from Sara O’Connor, my maternity leave editor, who is obviously currently obsessed with all things mummy.
And, I may say, she looks extraordinarily scary.
I’d love you to enter – I’d love to see the pictures – I promise not to laugh.