On forking out £45 to meet Igglepiggle

When we first became aware that you could go and see these children's entertainment things, J-cub was waaaay too young to have sat and enjoyed. We really, really wanted to go and see the Wiggles (oh, and probably take him too), but with prices starting at £30 a ticket, it was just way beyond our means.

So when this year's In the Night Garden Live! tour was announced, we ummed and ahhed over it for a while. We knew he would love it, but also that he probably wouldn't remember it, but ohhh it would be fun ... and so on, back and forth and back and forth. At £15 a ticket (including one for the boy - apparently you even have to pay for babes in arms, which seems a little excessive...), we eventually gulped down our pride ("Our child is NEVER going to watch television" HA, pre-Jacob Beth'n'Jamie, swallow your foolish words.) and booked it.

And of course, two weeks before the big day, he got chicken pox. It was touch and go as to whether or not he'd be scabby enough to go, but it turned out he was, and off we trotted to Cardiff.

Not sure who was most excited. Oh wait, it was me.

Parking near the Showdome (it's an inflatable indoor stage, for those not in the know) and walking across the park amongst hoards of excited pre-schoolers, I got that feeling, y'know, like when you go to a festival and everyone is dragging their tents and shit in the same direction and you can hear the music and it smells of crushed grass and other things and ohhhh ... I nearly started hallucinating and skipping around, really, I did.

Inside, we had to queue for about 6 hours (or maybe 10 minutes, I'm not sure, but it was damn hot and once they let you in, the queues move quickly, so don't bother getting there early.), then were quickly ushered inside and sat down to marvel at the birds and flowers all over the ceiling. J-cub was more than a little excited (oh, I forgot to mention that between booking the tickets and now, his interest in ITNG totally waned) and we were so glad that he was falling into the bouncing-up-and-down camp, rather than the screaming-with-unbridled-terror camp which roughly half the children seemed to be taunting their parents with.

And when it started, it was lovely. The puppetry was fantastic, it was captivating and beautiful, and really, really special. Honestly, if you'd told me mere months ago that I'd be waxing lyrical about some programme off CBeebies, I would have laughed in your face. But there you have it, I loved it.

J-cub loved it. I'm pretty sure that Jamie, despite his cynical exterior, loved it too.

And after every little scene or song, J-cub frantically signed and said "Moremoremoremoremore!". He talked about it for days afterwards.