THE windows were darkened by a struggling mass of paparazzi, fighting for a view of what was going on inside. Cameras clicked and flashed, camcorders were held high.

It was obvious they could see a good deal more than those of us lucky enough to be inside, even though we had seats only a metre or so away from the stars of the show.

But then the seats were tiny, blue and plastic, the stars a huddle of about 30 two to four-year-olds; the occasion, the Easter bonnet parade at my grandson's nursery. The 'paparazzi', of course, were doting parents.

It had started the night before, with one of those moments every parent dreads - the one where you suddenly find a mislaid note telling you that your efforts are required on behalf of some event due to take place on the following day.

My son used to shove any school notes in his pocket and unearth them only minutes before he was due to set out for school. You'd be rushing round trying to find clean sports' kit, or a shop open all hours that would sell you the ingredients for the day's cookery class (they still did proper cookery then - just).

It wasn't Jonah's fault that the note about the Easter bonnet parade had got buried. It had been handed over to one or other of his parents when they arrived to collect him from nursery a few days before. But that didn't alter the fact that when they actually read it there were only a few frantic hours left in which to come up with an Easter bonnet, so he wouldn't be shamed in front of all the parents invited to attend.

As it happened, it was my son's birthday. So dad's birthday treat was to perch on a tiny chair beside his mum and watch his son sing songs wearing the bonnet his mum (who couldn't be there) had concocted the night before. Or rather, try to watch.

In fact, all we could see was the very top bit of the bonnet - namely a straggly shredded paper nest on a cone of 'leaves'. At the start of the day, the nest had held a clutch of chocolate eggs, but they'd mysteriously disappeared during the course of the morning and it was now empty. At least he had a bonnet. One or two children were wearing identical policeman's helmets that somehow declared to the world that no one had bothered to make them anything.

The parade should have been held outside, but of course it poured with rain just at the wrong moment, so the parents were ushered into the largest available room and the children were led through to the other end. Then one of the staff struck up a tune on her guitar and they sang for us - or rather, the staff sang while some of the bolder children quavered along underneath. We had "There were five chocolate eggs..." and then the "Chick chick chick chick chicken" was implored to "lay a little egg for me".

By that time it had stopped raining and the sun was out so we all trooped into the garden, parents along one side, children facing. Or that was the idea. There was a bit more guitar playing - "Little Peter Rabbit had a fly upon his nose" this time - but a number of children wandered off to join mum or dad, while another little group decided they'd rather play chase than stand there singing.

The principal - hair done specially for the occasion - selected two children and gave them an Easter egg each as prize winners (so discreetly I wonder anyone noticed) and then order was gently restored. Trays of hot cross buns and fruit juice were brought out, the children were led back to their various rooms and we all went home.

What did Jonah make of it? Not a lot, it has to be said. Like most of them, I suspect he found it all rather bewildering. He enjoyed wearing the hat (it was concocted over a plastic pudding basin that's his pretend hat), but with all the excitement he missed his afternoon sleep and then was so tired he dissolved into tears at the prospect of daddy going home without him. So we took him back with us.

So, not a huge success with the children. What about the parents and grandparents? They got a chance to see the nursery at work, to meet the staff and the other parents. There was plenty to laugh about too in that tearful, "Aren't they sweet?" way. But I'm still not sure what the purpose of these things is, especially with children so young.

On the other hand, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I can't wait for the next one.

Published: 29/04/2004