Musical Statues

The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that all the classic games are based on things that happen within families:

• Twister; I watch my seventeen month old (who’s only been walking for three months) when he falls over and tries to get back up.  The little bum pokes up in the air, one hand moves to steady himself.  A little foot in a first walker shoe steps back, then forwards again, the other hand moves; is he going to be able to hold the pose or get tangled and fall into a heap?  I can imagine a little voice in his head saying, ‘Left foot, yellow circle.  Right hand, red circle…’
• Guess Who?; this is a game I play with my six year old on a regular basis.  Not just the actual board game, but also when he’s trying to tell me about someone and he’s forgotten their name.  Me, ‘Does this man have glasses?’  ‘Well, he sometimes wears glasses.’ OK, then.  ‘What colour hair does he have?’.  ‘Well, it’s sort of blondey-brown.’  That’s helpful, thanks for narrowing that down for me.
• Hide and Seek.  Like we don’t know this was invented accidentally when a parent wanted five minutes of peace and told their child to count to one hundred and then come and find them (even though counting to 20 is the child’s personal best).
• Simon Says – the idea came to someone once, ‘I wonder if my child will do as I ask if I try saying ‘Mummy Says’ or ‘Daddy Says”.  Nope, still doesn’t work.
• Musical Chairs – see ‘Alternative Speed Dating’; the blighters jump in your seat before you can say ‘I’m sitting there…’.  There’s nothing bloody musical about it.

And my own personal favourite:

Musical Statues – everyone’s done this; it’s like a reverse of the classic party game.  You have a newborn baby, you’re beyond tired.  It’s taken three hours and numerous feeds and methods of comfort to settle them.  They’re finally asleep.  You lay them gently in their cot. Relieved to have peace at last, you move towards the door.  They make a noise. You freeze.  You move again and, mid-step, they make another noise.  You daren’t put your foot down in case it hits a squeaky floorboard so you wait, foot suspended in the air.

Who knows how long you wait like this?  Are they awake or aren’t they?  You daren’t look at them because by turning around you risk making a noise and waking them if they’re still asleep (and also because Gina Ford says there’s to be no eye contact with your baby at bedtime).

…Four hours later you reach the door.  You’ve made it, you’re going to get out of there.  Now for the door handle…