My kids’ school currently has an initiative running to encourage children to arrive on time.
This involves a giant chicken parading the playground and shaking the hand of the early-bird kids.
Quite why children should be motivated by the chance of being accosted by an unconvincing oversized Sunday lunch is beyond me.
And it’s beyond my kids too.
In fact, it falls into some mysterious spot between ludicrous and sinister to see a grown man, shivering in a chicken costume as he struts around a primary school playground, shaking hand/wing and posing for photoshoots.
And it’s had the reverse effect for us. We live directly across the road from the school and so my girls have the advantage of being able to look out of the window, wait until the chicken is otherwise occupied, and then quickly – just before school bell – rush over and slip in the school gates without it seeing them.
“I think it’s only going to be here another couple of weeks,” Jess said this morning. “Thank goodness…”