Frühlingsfest is a big, fat, fancy schmancy word for “spring party.” And party we did on Saturday at the kindergarten.
T-Rex goes to a kindergarten with thirty-two other children, many of them from other countries and cultures. Naturally, the theme for this year’s party was a multi-cultural one. We had stations from the USA, Lebanon, Turkey, Sri Lanka, and Germany. Additionally, I know there are children in his school from China, Albania, Italy, Ukraine, etc.
In each of the countries, the children could play games, sing songs, or make crafts according to traditions of that culture. We had square dance music and songs with motions (like “If You’re Happy and You Know It”). The kids fashioned Native American jewelry out of flour-salt-water dough earlier in the week and painted it on party day. At the last minute, one of the teachers put up a token teepee. I about died. I thought it better to keep from running my mouth since these kids are only three and don’t even understand the words “cultural insensitivity.”
Unfortunately, the party organization and set up probably wasn’t the best. T-Rex wanted to go somewhere other than the boring ol’ U S of A. The parent volunteers (I somehow found myself included in this group) were supposed to stay with our stations, but in the end, the kids won us over and the place was just one big free for all.
He only had time to make a Turkish Fez and play a little fußball before it was time to eat.
But, Germans can’t do anything without singing. Multiple. Songs. Multiple. Times. I really don’t know how thirty-three kids put up with that. Seeeeriously.
After a crazy animal song that took a good ten minutes, we sang “Frére Jacques” in at least six languages, twice. Screech had decided to “sing” too, much to our chagrin.
But, finally, the moment we’d all been waiting for – the buffet! I made cornbread and baked beans. The Germans scratched their heads and moved on to the meatballs. No worries, mate. I was happy to take home oodles of leftovers after smelling those puppies simmering in my beloved crockpot for twelve whole hours.
I say next year they try a pretend-we’re-at-the-beach-sit-back-and-relax party. Cheers!