My heart sank when she immediately began poking around the set like a peeping tom in the girls’ changing room.
North London
After a lot of running around brandishing her painty weapons, Bab thankfully decided against a dirty protest.
There seem to be surprisingly few children’s art sessions that take place in an actual gallery setting, in the presence of actual art.
Going out with the urchins under the pretence that you’re a nice normal family often serves as a startling reminder that the opposite is true.
With any luck the park’s restful ambience might rub off on your mini mob, if only for half an hour or so.
I was expecting at least a few rounds of Wind the Bobbin Up to warm up our vocal chords but thankfully we were spared such suffering.
The main space resembled an NCT outing to the Bugaboo factory, with piled-up pushchairs, harassed mums and squawking toddlers.
The atmosphere is as chilled as you’d expect of a wine shop that’s happy to accommodate 12 tiny destroyers and their wine-sozzled mothers.
This is a particularly pretty corner of London, home to tranquil woodland, lush lawns, well-kept gardens and peaceful ponds.
I decided we’d go freestyle for the day, abandoning the buggy and letting the erratic slitherer do her worst. What could possibly go wrong?
bablands.com 