“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our Big Fat Greek Easter Show,” Nick announced with a flourish. “We've got an exciting performance for you this afternoon and we hope you enjoy it.”
Aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins cheered in rowdy applause as the curtains parted, while Jen and I were discreetly positioned behind the handcrafted stage.
We’d spent weeks rehearsing for our live puppet show which featured an elaborate and colourful array of props and musical performances.
Aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins cheered in rowdy applause as the curtains parted, while Jen and I were discreetly positioned behind the handcrafted stage.
We’d spent weeks rehearsing for our live puppet show which featured an elaborate and colourful array of props and musical performances.
“I thought this was supposed to be Jen and Nick’s Easter project?” I asked late one night while sipping a tall glass of bourbon.
“Stop complaining and put another coat of paint on those foam balls,” the kids’ mum replied.
“But I’ve already painted them.”
She cast a discerning eye over my artwork. “They need a second coat.”
I sighed, taking another sip. “I can’t believe Jen and Nick are in bed asleep while we’re still up past midnight!”
The kids and I had planned our musical extravaganza for weeks in the lead up to the Greek Easter of 2005.
We’d worked out several puppet routines, gathered materials for the props and recorded the background music.
It’s just that their mum and I got a bit overzealous, particularly with the tabletop stage, which we furnished with Greek columns (one Doric, one Corinthian), rustic paintwork, side window slats and a red velvet curtain hooked on a rod. Really, there's no point doing it half-heartedly, is there?.
We (their mum and I) worked diligently past midnight for several nights cutting, pasting and painting the finishing touches on our – err, I mean, the kids’ – masterpiece.
It was going to be the greatest Greek Easter Show on earth! Well, at least at yiayia and pappou’s house.
“Stop complaining and put another coat of paint on those foam balls,” the kids’ mum replied.
“But I’ve already painted them.”
She cast a discerning eye over my artwork. “They need a second coat.”
I sighed, taking another sip. “I can’t believe Jen and Nick are in bed asleep while we’re still up past midnight!”
The kids and I had planned our musical extravaganza for weeks in the lead up to the Greek Easter of 2005.
We’d worked out several puppet routines, gathered materials for the props and recorded the background music.
It’s just that their mum and I got a bit overzealous, particularly with the tabletop stage, which we furnished with Greek columns (one Doric, one Corinthian), rustic paintwork, side window slats and a red velvet curtain hooked on a rod. Really, there's no point doing it half-heartedly, is there?.
We (their mum and I) worked diligently past midnight for several nights cutting, pasting and painting the finishing touches on our – err, I mean, the kids’ – masterpiece.
It was going to be the greatest Greek Easter Show on earth! Well, at least at yiayia and pappou’s house.
The word Boubounakia is derived from the diminutive plural form of 'boubouna', an affectionate Greek word for a dopey fool. In order of appearance: B1 Hari, B2 Jen, B3 Nick and B4 cousin Joey.
Cousin Joey, then aged about three and a seasoned Wiggles aficionado, was overwhelmed with excitement with our number 7 act.
“It’s the Big Red Car,” he announced, running up to the stage for a closer inspection.
The half egg carton, painted red, was fitted out with mag alloy wheels and steering wheel (raided from Nick’s toy box), a windscreen, miniature fluffy dice, and was occupied by four chocolate Easter eggs endowed with googly eyes (available at all good craft shops).
I’ve already admitted that we got a wee bit overzealous with the props. Perhaps I was making up for a childhood that lacked creativity and grand puppet show productions.
With Nick as the MC, our afternoon’s musical performances included:
Pappou the Builder
Pappou the builder.
Can he fix it?
Pappou the builder.
Yes he can.
Jennifer and Nicholas and Joseph too,
Playing together like good friends do.
Four boubounakia jumping on the bed (a la Wiggles)
Four boubounakia jumping on the bed
One fell off and cracked his head.
They called the doctor and the doctor said:
No boubounakia jumping on the bed!
The Macaronia dance
Featuring clumps of angel hair pasta on a stick, complete with googly eyes and thick red lips, dancing to the Macarena tune.
Big Red Car (a la Wiggles)
I’ve got a lovely bunch of Easter eggs
I’ve got a lovely bunch of Easter eggs
Here they are all standing in a row
Big ones, small ones, ones the size of your head.
They’re so good, you can even eat them in bed.
Grand finale: the Zorba Dance
Executed while wearing a white glove featuring googly eyes, a big swirling moustache and pom poms (think traditional Greek costume).
I’m not quite sure why we didn’t photograph our extravagant props, but I’ll have to track down that video recording one day.
Nonetheless, our first ever Big Fat Greek Easter Show was a riotous success. Unfortunately, it was our only public performance.
Despite preliminary plans for a Boubounakia Christmas Special that same year, we couldn't get this second project off the ground as I started working full-time and the kids had a hectic weekend social schedule.
Thank goodness we continued our long-running epic bedtime story for a couple more years before the kids started high school and I relocated to the Sunshine Coast here in Queensland!
I miss those carefree, silly, creative and impulsive babysitting days. I had just as much fun as Jen and Nick - and duly got into trouble for it. I hope they fondly remember our time together well into their adult lives.
So... anyone got any spare kids available?
Next week: Why I get to have two Easters
In memory of pappou (Jen & Nick's grandpa) who passed away last month.
