Playing hookie


I may or may not have chucked a sickie in my time but I’ve never let my eldest stay home from school for no reason. On Tuesday I though “stuff it” and because I’m such a rebel, I let him have the day off and surprised the boys with a day at the Ekka.

FYI it was my day off work so it was only Jack who was naughty 😉

For those not familiar, the Ekka is the annual Brisbane show. You know with rides, sideshow alley, pooping animals, loud carnie folk, dagwood dogs and show bags filled with plastic shite and 42 tonnes of sugar, all costing a small mortgage. And so much fun!!

I went to the Ekka a long time ago and to be quite honest, I don’t really remember much about it. The boys had never been and were beyond excited. We were greeted at the gate by some lovely police officers who were handing out wristbands to the kids on which they were writing parents name and numbers. Normally when we go anywhere with a massive crowd I scribble my phone number up their arms but I forgot that day so was grateful for the lost kid bracelets.

We watched the gussied up horses parading around the main arena, the primped and preened cattle and the sweet (and some snobby) show dogs. There was a big pavilion housing the prized chickens, ducks, turkeys and roosters. It was there I discovered Jack has a fear of these screeching black feathery things. Me, being the compassionate and supportive mother I am, pissed myself with laughter as he ran off yelling at the top of his lungs “they’re all LOOKING AT ME!!!!!!!”.


We grabbed a really healthy, organic paleo inspired lunch of dagwood dogs and hot chips, found a shady spot and people watched. It made me feel a little less guilty to see that plenty of other families had let their kiddies wag school too 😉

We played that game where you throw balls in a clowns mouth and win a shitty slinky, went on a little rollercoaster and got lost (and sometimes stuck) in some weird obstacle course-like structure. Face painting happened (not for me, apparently I wasn’t allowed to be a fairy princess) and we grabbed cups of delicious strawberries topped with ice-cream. Not long after, someone handed the boys a helium balloon each. I tied Hayden’s to his wrist but Jack was having none of it, so of course he let his go and cried his face off as it floated away into nearby flight paths. A trio of police officers walked over and as I hurriedly prepared my explanation as to why the kid was crying (he is mine I promise and no I did nothing to him etc) one of the officers crouched down in front of Jack, took his hand and lead him back into the pavilion to organise another ballon. Now not only does Jack have a weird love of balloons but he adores the police so this well and truly made his day. I watched the officer walked back with my beaming child (also secretly hoping this scene was not an insight into his future), balloon now secured to his wrist, and thanked them all profusely.


Show bag time arrived and we walked around (and around and around and around) looking at all the craptastic offerings. I started getting shirty after about 25 minutes of indecisiveness, not helped by my ban on the lolly filled bags. Jack finally decided on a Brisbane Broncos bag and Hayden chose Ben 10, even though he admitted he had no real idea who that was. I purchased the obligatory Bertie Beetle bag (and one for my friend Trish) plus a cute tote filled with Sukin skincare and a licorice one for mum. A pretty nice haul really.

We had an awesome day. It just proved that sometimes you just have to say “stuff it”, bend the rules a little and have the best day with your little people.

Kate xxxx

FYI I was still pooping myself walking Jack into school the next day, like I was about to get hauled off to the principal’s office for a lecture on encouraging delinquent children.

I didn’t, so it was all good.

Unless they have a file on me now.



2 thoughts on “Playing hookie

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s