Whilst we were sleeping

I've been inspired by Dinovember, in which a mum and dad pretend their dinosaurs come to life in November and every night set up a dinosaur tableau for their kids to discover.

Bizarrely, because we seem to own everything else, we don't own any plastic dinosaurs. (A friend recently suggested, kindly, that when we come to sell our house in due course we should put half of what we own in the loft to make it look like we have more space. I didn't have the heart to tell her we've already done that.) But we do have soft toys aplenty, and last night before I went to bed I set up a little scene between two of my favourite bears (for the children are fickle and do not yet have favourites). It was a simple scene - just two bears having a civilised chat over a cake each. Not for these bears a feast made of all our toy food. No, my daughter might like making concoctions such as chicken, orange and sock soup, but these bears are a little more refined. I mean, they do wear clothes after all.

No doubt if I was the Dinovember mum the bears would have had real cake, with icing on their paws and a trail of crumbs leading from the kitchen. See, for example, what happened when the dinosaurs discovered eggs.

Good job I didn't bother with that, for Goodynuff's Law that 'the more effort you put in the less bothered the children will be' was completely true. "Look" I cried when the children got me up and brought me downstairs at some ungodly time beginning with 5, "the bears came to life and decided to have a cake and a chat." I was talking to myself really - in the six hours between going to bed and getting up I had completely managed to forget I'd set up this scene before I went upstairs. When I opened the door the surprise was entirely mine. The kids, alas, didn't even notice.