The Rugby World Cup 2011

I think it’s fair to say that New Zealand is completely consumed with rugby mania at the moment.

Every time I leave the house I see All Blacks flags on cars and on garden gates. Every time I open the newspaper or switch on the radio or TV they are talking about rugby.

Even Molly’s school is obsessed – she’s been in constant rehearsals for a “Big Event” performance in a couple of weeks time, and this week she had to prepare a short talk for the class on her choice of any team in the Rugby World Cup (she went in dressed in her old school uniform yesterday, carrying a plastic wallaby and a toy snake - no prizes for guessing which team she chose to talk about).

Also yesterday, Alfie’s pre-school decided to paint each child’s face with the flag of a country who’s playing in the RWC. Not really fully understanding his background, the teachers randomly chose Argentina for Alfie. This was clearly an incredibly unfortunate choice for our little Falklands-born boy, although he is still too young to appreciate what it means and is unwilling to let it be washed off. Bath time soon though....!

Anyway, I have no idea on how to avoid the RWC phenomenon, and so to hell with it – if you can’t beat them...

With Jake up in Auckland for the opening game last night, the kids and I ordered pizza, got our flags out and settled down to watch the match.

Molly quickly got into the spirit of things, picking up on the rules and the scoring system faster than I ever did (I still struggle with the difference between kicks), shouting and cheering “come on boys” every time the ABs had the ball, and developing a complete beyond-her-years infatuation with Dan Carter.

Meanwhile the little rugby fanatic of the house who has recently started playing rugby every day at pre-school and chanting the haka at every possible opportunity actually fell asleep before the national anthems even began...