Yes, that’s right! The Four Little Seymours are going on the telly!
All of them! Numbers One and Two, Boy and Mini will make their televisual debut at some point in the not-too distant future, and wow, are you in for a treat!
Well, actually, I’m not sure what you’re in for, really. If there is a lot of careful editing, you might see a cohesive and interesting collection of young people showing great intelligence and maturity in front of a room full of experts. Or, depending on what they leave in, you might see what actually happened…
One afternoon last week, I collected my many children from their associated establishments of education. They were all needed, apparently, to take part in the filming of a programme I hadn’t heard of.
But in the spirit of enterprise and endeavour, (and because Grandma E had organised the whole thing), we scurried across the beautiful Sussex countryside in The Shiny Van on a glorious September afternoon, in search of “The Location”.
Siri didn’t let me down. I only got lost once, and after a wrong turn at Chichester, caused mainly by the distractions associated with excited small passengers, we arrived at our destination.
And we were early!
I need not describe at this point what the interior of The Shiny Van looked like when we arrived. Suffice to say that Grandma E packs sustenance for all eventualities, and after drinks and sandwiches had been dished out willy-nilly en-route, I couldn’t bear to look, as the sustenance was all over the place.
As we pulled in to The Location, we were greeted by a young researcher who went by the name of James. James approached the van, greeted Grandma E, who he was expecting, and then was surprised, nay, shocked, when umpteen small Seymours emerged from the vehicle. It looked like he wasn’t aware of the grand plan.
James held his nerve. He took a few moments to gauge the situation, and then approached me, quietly requesting the Child Contributor Release Forms that I would no doubt have with me, in order for this whole project to go ahead.
Oh bugger. My heart sank. I had only gone and forgotten the bloody forms that had been emailed to me in advance by the powers that be. What a plank.
There I was, with the Four Little Seymours and my mother, whose project this was, potentially wasting everyone’s time because I had failed at basic admin’.
There followed a stressful hour during which a lovely girl called Sian fed my children Pringles and Coke, whilst I tried in vain to prove to James that I hadn’t stolen these children, and that they weren’t being exploited for the entertainment industry without the permission of their father.
Big Seymour, of course, was incommunicado.
I rang him. I rang his parents, I rang our decorator, I even rang a peer of the realm. I telephoned his company’s office, and his colleagues, all of whom assured me he should be home by now, and none of whom could actually explain his absence.
Poor James the Researcher. What was he supposed to do? Protocol had to be followed… but here were four small people, desperate to get on the telly, and it seemed that unless we could get proof I hadn’t just abducted them, that might not be able to happen…
Now, it just so happens that, luckily, there is a lot of waiting around in telly. (I should know. I’m a veteran.) But in the time it took for the experts to be ready for us, I was able to send Big Seymour a million pleading text messages to ring James. Aware that the naturally suspicious Big Seymour didn’t know who James was, I wasn’t optimistic, but just as we were walking round to do our bit to camera, Little Seymours and all, James’ phone rang. Big Seymour saved the day!
The “bit to camera” was long and drawn out. The Little Seymours did admirably, at first. Until Boy Seymour took a shine to one of the experts, and started to cross the boundaries of politeness, and until Mini Seymour decided to hang off me because she’s no good at standing still and she was bored.
They even began to argue – slowly at first, then with more and more gusto as filming progressed. Grandma E had to use her stern voice during the interview, as little hands began shoving and a kerfuffle loomed large. And then, to top it all off, as we were summing up our experience of the day, someone mentioned death on air. As you do.
I dread to think what all of this will look like post production. Perhaps they’ll axe the lot!
So, depending on whether your idea of a treat is a)seeing four very well-behaved little angels, harmoniously listening as their grandmother talks of days gone by, and small heads nodding politely at every opportunity, or whether it is b) witnessing a gaggle of siblings talking over one another, hanging off their mother, hand slapping each other and being cheeky with expert presenters, you may or may not be in for that treat.
Either way, I’m sure this will be one for the family archive – and excellent blog-fodder, to boot. I’ll keep you posted. Look out for the one entitled “The Four Little Seymours Go Wild On BBC2”. It’s bound to be legendary. :-O
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