The magician

For the birthday party we had booked a magician to come entertain the little ones. We had informed him that the kids where three years old so please, a funny but age appropriate show. And - no animals.

He showed up an hour late and started by getting a bunch of doves out of his hat. Then he threw a raw egg on a little boy (of course we all thought it would be bolied, por favor, luckily Kai managed to catch the one first threwn at him...), and, fussing rather unappropriatley inside another one's pants, he found another dove there. Then, failing with one trick, he poured a glass of milk over another and then almost set fire on Ayla during his grand finale. As if this wasn't enough, he poured a small herd of little duckings out of the bucket where he finally had managed to throw in the burning papers. They started to run around the cafe in panic, immediately chased as they were by twenty excited three-years-old, until some responsible parents managed to catch and save them. By then the magician had disappeared, apparently getting dressed or packing up doves or something.

Enjoying (?) the show.

Ayla, before the fire and the ducklings...

In the end, nothing to get upset about. We're all used to expect the unexpected and by now it has more or less turned into the expected. Anyway - it's not him. It's the country. Or the culture. Or what?