We went to a McDonald’s Kids Party the other day. In principle, I’m pretty opposed to McDonalds Inc. But a kid’s party is a kid’s party – there’s always going to be junk food, ice cream cake, lollies and fizzy drinks. So I didn’t let my notions of a better planet get in the way of a good party. In fact, it was really good fun.

The games-lady made the kids play a dancing game, and Sean won a prize for the best dancing! And it was no charity prize. No, not at all. Sean can get down and boogie like a disco king.

When he is 21, in a raging nightclub, he’ll be the guy on the crowded dance floor with 2 metres of space around him – dancing to his own rhythm, lost in his own world, making up his own moves and making it look so cool, yet so wrong.

Callum, on the other hand – during the game of “Muscial Bobs” – worked out that if he just stayed crouched, and waited for the music to stop, maybe the games-lady will think he bobbed first and give him a prize.

I went to stand up the front, squeezing between some chairs, to take photos of all the kids. Callum, still crouching, shuffled towards me. I asked him, “Callum, what are you doing?”
“I wanted to see what you were doing.”
“Are you bobbing down so you can win a prize?”
“No. Yes.”
“I think you should just follow the rules. Dance!”
“Aww man!” He walked off. And a few seconds later I spot him doing a knees bent, crouching kind of dance – ready to bob at any moment.

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