The Rising of the Moon

Surely there can be no more unsuitable job than this one for a father of small children? Even when I'm around I disappear shortly before the bedtime hour - which requires Peace Process-levels of compromise and negotiations to get the bairns into their beds, and which is not to be tackled alone if possible. It also makes it terribly tricky for your missus to get along to see the show.
Cue the arrival and intervention of The Master Distractor and Entertainer of Small Boys, also known as Helen's boyfriend Bez - who has flown in  for a few days and is rewarded for this gesture by being saddled with my kids for a night. Not really, he actually volunteers and boy, is he qualified. So whilst he and Jake discuss matters like the relative merits of Megatron and Bumblebee, and whether it would be cooler to a) be invisible or b) have an eye on the end of your index finger, Sue is able to slip out for her first and probably only night at the theatre until July.

Bumblebee. The legend in Lego.

She sees a great show. Not quite as spectacular as the one the following night, when we get a standing ovation, but a solid, slick, pacy performance, variously highly charged and full of subtlety. Afterwards we're able to go see some diddlee-dee music at the Corner House and share a table with some really friendly Corkonians. This is the first time she's spent any time with me on tour since 2005, and obviously it's not entirely an accurate picture of what goes on, but it must be good to meet the people I work with and know basically what I do.

Just don't tell her that I normally get up at midday...