Janet Christie's Mum's the Word - No one parties like a Baby Boomer

Have a cracking, but safe, Easter

Mum's the Word

Easter means family gatherings, sugar rushes and communal activities so brace yourselves if you’re out of practice after months in isolation. I’m not talking about the possibility of catching or spreading Covid, since it seems we’re just pressing on regardless and relying on herd immunity, it’s more the ability to hold several conversations at once, bicker without taking offence, and engage in multiple group activities which may become dangerously physical.

Or is that just my family? Because no-one parties like the Baby Boomers and a pre-Easter get together was just the training I needed to get back in the swing of things.

Billed as a weekend by the sea, booked pre-Covid but finally happening, it spoke to me of gentle strolls along the sand re-connecting with relatives I’ve missed during lockdown. How naive.

“You’ve all got parts. Janet you’re Liesl. You’re having a thing with the telegram boy. Don’t worry you’ll be fine. Your cousin’s Maria, her man’s Von Trapp, I’m a nun, your uncle’s…” and on it goes through the cast of a Sound of Music for the adaptation my aunty has honed during lockdown. And that’s just the warm up before an evening of karaoke.

Resistance is futile and I know it’ll be fun as long as no-one loses an eye.

“Ok, remember I sound like a frog in a bucket,” I say. “But Youngest… she sings like a bird,” and I offer up my last born. Not cruel, she has the family talents which skipped me and embraces the floor with the confidence expected in a gathering of several generations of shall we call them natural performers (or microphone hoggers?), with even teenagers emerging willingly from cyberspace in darkened bedrooms to take part. These are her people.

All we’re missing are costumes - “next time!” - as the holiday home comes alive with The Sound of Music, and I remember I do have a talent - Narrator - until finally we all slump triumphant on various sofas.

Which is when the door bursts open and Freddie Mercury bursts in singing “I Want To Break Free”, in a wig, vest, miniskirt and carrying a Henry Hoover. And here was me fretting about how my aunty was recovering from her knee surgery. It’s karaoke time!

Like I said, no-one parties like a Baby Boomer. Have a cracking, but safe, Easter.

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