Pardon you…


“A burp is just a fart that never made it down to your butt”.

A burp

(Quote by me, just now. Bosh. It’ll make sense why I’ve written it in a bit).


The middle one had his class assembly today.

He was to be a tiger and had one line to learn. This might not seem like a lot to some of you, but to us, this one line is momentous.

Little Zak barely spoke until he was 4.

He had a speech delay which never got a diagnosis as such, he was just a late speaker. We would get the odd word appear, and lots of noises and pointing, but never any actual words. He didn’t say Mummy until he was 4yrs 2months old, but when he did, it made my heart melt. He was, and still is, bright as a button though and so this made his speech delay all the more puzzling. Just one of those things I guess…

He had some speech therapy whilst he was at preschool and, thankfully, he has come on leaps and bounds and you’d hardly know he ever had a delay now.

The first time Zak spoke in a performance was in his Preschool nativity play aged 4yrs 3months. He had to be an Inn Keeper and had to tell Mary there was no room at the Inn. He was brilliant, and I’m sure everyone must have thought I was utterly bonkers sat there snivveling like a toddler, who was given a blue cup instead of their desired green one, but it was such a momentous occasion for us all. To see our little lad up on a stage, and speaking loud and proud, it was just the best. I think I used an entire packet of tissues in 10 minutes!

Anyhow, I’ve digressed from the main tale again…as usual.




Speaking on stage.


So, back to the assembly today. I have the toddler with me of course, and I have arrived at the school hall well prepared with snacks and juice to keep him quiet during the performance.

I make sure I seat myself near an escape route in case he has a meltdown and settle down for the show.

The kids are dressed as jungle animals and birds, they all looked wonderful. Some costumes painstakingly homemade, some dug from the depths of the dressing up box, some borrowed (me! Thanks so much Kerrie! You’re a tiger costume lending lifesaver!) – all brilliant. They looked the business.

They began with Zak’s group. He was in a group of tigers telling us facts about them. He nailed his line when it came to it and spoke loudly and clearly. I was a super proud mummy and couldn’t have asked for any better from my little tiger cub. His face lit up as he left the stage and he gave me a knowing smile as he walked down the steps.

The rest of his class all did superbly too. They were astoundingly confident, theatrical, and just looked like they were all loving life. It was truly heartwarming. They’re a gorgeous bunch of kids.

The toddler was loving it too thankfully, and was watching open mouthed at all the colours and he clapped along when appropriate. It was a bloody miracle! I was expecting to have to watch it from outside the hall doors, through the glass, but we managed the whole shebang! Whoop whoop! High five Ben!

After the class assembly had finished, the headteacher stood up to congratulate them and to hand out some awards to other children in the school. Standard procedure and this can go on for 10 minutes or so. Ben had started to get a little restless by now however and was demanding some juice.

I diligently got a carton of juice out of my bag and helped him hold it so he could drink it. I knew it was almost the end of the assembly so I was over the moon we had basically made it to the end tantrum free.

The hall was totally quiet as a little lad went up to sit with the headteacher to speak about his certificate and why he had got it.

Everyone was listening intently and he was having his moment to shine.

Then, out of nowhere, there came a noise…


It was Ben.

My toddler.

After guzzling the whole carton of juice, he had let out the most ENORMOUS burp I have ever heard him do in all my life.

Literally. It was like he had swallowed a microphone and burped into it.

With that, the parents at the back with me cracked up, the kids in the hall span around with glee to see who had made such a fantastically brilliant belch noise in the middle of the headteacher speaking, and the teachers were trying their best not to laugh their heads off too.

I had lost it.

Completely gone.

I was hot, I had tears rolling down my face, I was stifling my laughter to the point I thought I was going to burst.

I had to put my head in my lap because I couldn’t contain myself.

I had to remove my glasses because of the tears rolling down my face.

Utter hysteria.

And, as for Ben, well, he was doing his best Woodlouse impression and had curled up into a ball on the bench, unaware of why everyone was looking at him.

I evertually managed to compose myself, once all the kids had filtered out of the hall, and then we got to congratulate Zak on his performance.

Hugs all around and tissues for mummy, now for multiple reasons – happiness and hysteria.

And that was that. The last assembly for my middle one in Year 1. I don’t know where the time is going…

It’s safe to say I will remember this assembly forever.



Little Hearts, Big Love



  1. May 25, 2016 / 9:33 pm

    Lol, that’s so funny. Well done to Zak for saying his line so clearly but I have to say that Ben really did steal his thunder with that beautifully-timed and very loud burp! Thanks for sharing with #ftmob 🙂
    Louise (Little Hearts, Big Love) recently posted…I’m going to #BML16My Profile

  2. admin
    May 25, 2016 / 9:35 pm

    It was utterly mortifying Louise, the whole school looked at us…and to make it worse, one of the dads over the other side thought it was me!! xx

  3. September 7, 2016 / 10:16 pm

    Oh god, that’s your worst nightmare. Actually farting really loudly would be, but I expect it lightened the mood

  4. admin
    September 7, 2016 / 11:18 pm

    It was pretty horrendous Em!
    I couldn’t stop the laughter either, I was crying x

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