Kevin Page: Inter-generational shenanigans in the supermarket frozen section

It seems the family shenanigans have now extended to my granddaughter, writes Kevin Page. Photo / Getty Images

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There's just something about the freezer section of the supermarket that makes some in my family go all theatrical.

I can certainly vouch for the fact my parents had a whale of a time when they went a bit doolally and danced amid the frozen peas at a Tesco supermarket in London decades ago.

And I am not ashamed to put my hand up and admit I was inspired to grab Mrs P in a similar location only a few years ago much to her embarrassment.

These days she's on her guard and rarely ventures too far into the bowels of the supermarket in case a similar fate befalls her.

One day I'm going to make sure she doesn't linger behind in the dog food aisle. You could say I plan to defrost her fears. Boom, boom.

Anyway.

It seems the family shenanigans have now extended to my granddaughter.

To be honest, the likelihood of it happening to Miss Almost Four was a bit of a no brainer.
She is besotted with the film "Frozen" and all its characters and songs so it's a real short slide down a slippery slope to our family traits.

And I was telling the little cherub all about it recently as we wandered through the supermarket in her home town.

Since she could comprehend, I have been filling her in on all those funny little things her daddy used to do. And I've also imparted some of the silly tales involving her grandad and nanny.

Then Just the other week I relayed the story about my parents at the Tesco supermarket.
She sat in the trolley, totally transfixed as I told how piped music had been playing when my parents were checking through the frozen peas.

For some absolutely obscure reason the theme song to the western film "The Man From Laramie" came over the speaker. All I can think was the manager must have been a fan.

My brother and I, standing not far away knew we were in for some embarrassment the second the song started.

We had witnessed mum and dad dancing to the same song in our house once. They didn't disappoint when the opportunity arose in public, with dad clapping his hands and stomping his feet like it was a western hoedown mum whirled and twirled around him.

Miss Almost Four was delighted with the tale and pressed for details of my own experience with Mrs P.

Long story short. Same thing but this time the music was Greased Lightning – again you have to wonder who gets to choose the playlist and whether they actually get out in the real world much – and away we went.

It would be fair to say Mrs P, a one-time professional dancer, was struggling with the spontaneity of it at first but then another couple, completely unknown to us, joined in and she seemed a lot more comfortable.

I'm thinking it probably distracted some of the smirking onlookers who at that stage were no doubt fixated on my stunning footwork. Ahem.

So. The two tales told, Miss Almost Four and I finally get to where we are meant to be. The freezer section.

I'm burrowing down for some mixed veg and I hear: "Granddad!" as she shouts for my attention.

And with that, standing tall in the trolley, arms spread wide like that scene from the Titanic she launches into "Let It Go" - the theme song from her favourite film.

Now it would be fair to say some of the lines escape her but she doesn't care if she replaces them with "Do, do, dee, doo, dee, doo" (as you do, or dee). Nor do the people who have stopped to watch. She's in her element.

Midway through she's building up to the crescendo and I get "The Look", first registered as a trademark by her grandmother. Now obviously I have some experience in this area and I know it means she wants to me to join in. And so I do.

We finish the song together to a little applause and polite smiles from other shoppers.
But Miss Almost Four is not happy. it seems I misread The Look.

Apparently she just wanted me to move so the lady standing at the corner of the aisle behind me could see her better.

She says next time she sings in the freezer section she wants me to stay out of the way.

• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@northernadvocate.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field) .