The feckless brother has written this for your delectation:
Got over to Brussels this morning on an early morning flight, had to get to the airport very early to deny one of Micheal O’Leary’s minions the pleasure of saying the check in desk is closed and which part of no refund don’t you understand. As you can imagine I was in peak form for a community service visit staying in a house with three exhausting but adorable kids. First stop was to pick up the eldest girl the Princess, she was in top form terrorising the lunch time customers of an elegant Brussels eaterie. Not being used to the business of looking after kids I found her behaviour exhibited a certqin degree of stuborness which I was inclined to put down to genetics but my elder sibling assured me it is was the way all 3 year old kids were. Next up was the playground, with lethal looking monkey bars climbing walls and slides. The place reminded me of an unfortunaye incident a few years previously I managed to sprain my ankle trying to impress a girl on the monkey bars after pub closing time……….suffice it to say the outcome wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for [i.e. three weeks on crutches]. Fortunately today’s visit did not leave me mentally and physically broken as the Princess took to the playground with a vengence; she made a sand cake for me and as I looked like I was about to eat it I could see the princess thinking “he’s thick enough to do this” and she duly warned me that it was a pretend cake. I’ve been called away now to play a boardgame by my niece, I fear I’m going to test her patience as she explains the rules to me.
