There was an article in the paper recently on free range kids, something I’ve seen knocking around the internet over the past couple of months (am I the last person to notice how many things in the papers seem to be stale versions of what has been on the internet for ages?). It was a Dublin version of what everyone has been saying – our children have no freedom because we’re too scared to let them take any risks.
Since our return to Ireland, we have been struck by the suicidal behaviour of Irish pedestrians who throw themselves across the road whenever they get a chance. This is particularly noteworthy as in the 5 years since we last lived in this country, everyone has acquired an enormous American SUV. And we do not have American roads and infrastructure and these cars are ludicrously enormous on our small streets. (These two paragraphs are connected, bear with me). The other morning, Mr. Waffle passed a private boys secondary school near his parents’ house and he saw a fleet of these vehicles dropping off their precious passengers to school. He said it looked absurdly like an army of mercenaries had decided to take over South County Dublin and were rolling up to the school to make it their headquarters: “The revolution storts* here”.
*This is not a typo, there is a nasty Dublin accent where the “a” sound is substituted by an “o”, I live in fear of my children picking it up but given where we will be living, they are much more likely to pick up a different nasty Dublin accent. It’s hard to know whether to be glad or sorry.
I thought all Irish people pronounced their As as Os. Sounds like all the Irish people I met and spoke English with were from the same region.
Irish pedestrians were always suicidal, surely? My second-cousin-once-removed-in-law, a very brisk Scot who ended up in Limerick, said they were worst of all coming out of mass ‘because they think they’ll go straight to heaven’.
Could be worse, waf…. could be a Montenotte nasel they have to live with. Oh and walcome ‘home’, roysh…
Jack? Is that you? (Sorry about the comment box hijack, waf’).
I am now picturing tiny, school-uniformed mercenaries ….
Must be him, no?
That would be me alright, Pog. And I missed you too… 🙂
Waf’ you do realise it’s only a matter of time now before we pass each other on Grafton Street? However, I promise not to wave, stare or plunge into overly-familiar conversation.
Mmm. Interesting. Have you got a new blog somewhere that you’re not telling us about? Pog and I will find out. Just warning you.
Not so much a blog…. more an external memory source. Time and inclination are increasingly against the kind of stuff that was my 20six sandbox.
And besides I fell into a day job that calls for sobriety and no secret selves… even Max isn’t impressed by me anymore!