The Garden Party (Queen not invited)

Woke after a heavy and deep sleep dreaming I was Lord Nelson (literally) single-handedly defeating a bucket-throwing Spanish Armada at Sea-waterloo.
After school we didn't go anywhere because it was the end-of-year garden party for the whole school. This means it was very busy and splendid weather for it into the bargain.
We had GrystleWurst sausages again which I don't like so Ben had mine but there were named meat sandwiches so I didn't totally miss out. I have been given lengthy explanations about making do with food that you're not super-keen on, but am having none of it, hoho.
We played football and skittles and dancing and were all quite pink at the end, a 2-hour bonus party.
The builders have attended the house part-time again and have asked that we supply a light fitting for the boiler room. I have much experience at buying electricals so sourced a globular creation in Homebase up the Eastern Road. And whaddya know, right there is a giant Toys'R'us which is currently tiny as most of their floorspace is walled off for refurbishment.
Over the years there have been many toy crazes predominantly applicable to only a single sex eg My Little Load Of Old Pony and Lego Heroes and Football Stickers and Monica's Pretend Hair Curlers and so forth. But every now and then, one comes along that cracks both markets. Loombanding should be for girls. It's a brightly coloured manual dexterity challenge in pink boxes that apes Mummys' knitting and sewing skills, and at the end you get some body jewellery or wearable fashion. The models on the front of the box are all ten year-old girls.
And yet, oblivious to the irony (or pressure cookery), I had to elbow 2 older boys out of the way to get to the display and ensure I got the Big Box'o'Bands for £10 that Erin told me about. The way us chaps sit around comparing weaves, designs, stitching and necklaces, we're one hormonal imbalance away from being seamstresses. But we don't know that.