Yesterday I went to my six year old niece's ballet recital.
Apparently, they had been practicing for weeks and she was very excited/nervous about it. They were performing an adaptation of Peter Pan in front of an audience of over four hundred.
'What is your role?' I asked, when I arrived.
'A cwrocodile.'
Now, I know you're thinking that is the equivalent of being a tree but, I'll have you know, she was a sensational cwrocodile.
And she stood head and shoulders above the other seventeen cwrocodiles.
(That is a complete lie, they all looked exactly the same. The only way we could pick her was cause she was the shortest and was grinning like a loon).
Our cwrocodile was on stage for about two minutes.
And it was worth every second.
