I meant to blog about this on Monday. But I’ve had a mad busy week and as I’m not supposed to be using my left hand it takes me ages to type anything. I was in Balbriggan library last Saturday morning doing my ‘Story Queen’ routine.

I get dressed up as a panto queen complete with crown, rope of pearls, red patent leather shoes and stripey tights. Then off with me to the Junior section of one of Fingal's libraries where I lead a forty minute interactive book reading session with a crowd of under sevens.

Last  Saturday the children in Balbriggan library got totally involved with me. A friend of mine was there with her beautiful sons but I’m afraid the girls took over that day. There were two little girls in particular both aged about four who decided they wanted to join in with everything.

 ‘Can we have a chat instead?’ asked one.

 ‘Now dear, when I’ve finished this story we can have a little chat, is that ok’.

 ‘Of course,’ sez she.

So off we went with Owl Babies by Martin Waddell complete with a chorus of  ‘I want my Mummy’ says Bill from everyone.

‘Is it time for the chat now’ she persisted.

'I want to chat too,' said smallie no 2

’Tell me what you want to talk about’

‘Em…m…m..teacher has that  book,’  pointing to Farmer Duck.

‘Shall I read that for you then dear?’ 

She nodded and I demonstrated how they were to quack and cluck and moo and baa along with me. As I twisted around, clucking like a hen – as one does - my hoop and train got all twisted and much hilarity ensued.

We read several more stories and at the end my little friends insisted on picking up my train and escorting me to the top of the steps leading from the junior library. I was bowled over buy the love I felt from them all. I had to stay in the loo until I thought the kids were all gone. I hate destroying their illusions. When I thought the coast was clear I left the library and walked back to my car and who was in the car parked next to mine only my little chatty friends! So back into Queenie mode I went.

'Don’t mind that I’m not in my dress dear. I couldn’t wander about the town in it – why people would think I was quite insane. Now I must rush. The King is waiting for his dinner.’

I think I got away with it.