belgianwaffle

Archives for June 2010

Found out


Posted in: Princess

Herself said to me shyly the other day that she “couldn’t help” seeing something about our trip to Cork on the internet.

Her: Is it like a diary on the computer?
Me: Yes, it is.
Her: Why wouldn’t you want to keep a diary secret?
Me: Well, I suppose I don’t believe in secrecy.
Her: Why don’t you use my real name?
Me: For secrecy.

So far, she remains in ignorance of my archives but she did seem rather charmed by the idea that I am tracking her every move. Cross-questioning revealed that my loving husband had left my homepage here open while searching for club penguin. Oh well, I suppose she had to find out at some point. She doesn’t seem scarred by the knowledge. Yet.

Debacle


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael

Michael: Can I have a jam sandwich after my porridge?
Me: OK.
Daniel: Me too.
Me: OK, do you want them cut or folded?
Both: Folded.

I produced the jam sandwiches (yes, yes, I know, for breakfast)…cut. It was an accident, I wasn’t concentrating.

Daniel and Michael: We wanted them folded.
Me: Are you sure?
Them: Yes.
Me: Well, it’s cut or nothing, I’m not going to throw those out just because they’re not folded. They taste the same, you know.
Them: Tears.
Me: What is it cut or nothing?
Michael: I asked for it folded.
Me: Sometimes in life you can’t have everything you want.
Michael: Sometimes in life you can. I want it FOLDED.
Me: It tastes the same.

Boys stomp into the kitchen and pull down all the fridge magnets from the fridge in protest. This is VERY annoying. I send them, still weeping, to sit on the stairs and think about their sins.

Me: Are you ready to say sorry?
Daniel: OK. Sorry.
Michael: NO. I WANTED IT FOLDED.

Daniel sits up to eat the cut sandwich and asks whether, if he eats it, he can have another one, folded. I reluctantly concede – going half way to reward him for his capitulation. Michael pauses his howling.

Michael: Can I have another jam sandwich folded, if I eat the cut one?
Me: Yes, ok.
Michael (unanswerably): Then why can’t I have the folded one first?
Me: Because you have to eat the cut one before you can get the folded one.
Michael: I have to eat two jam sandwiches to get the folded one?
Me (in some difficulty): Yes.
Michael: Why do I have to eat two jam sandwiches?

Modern Mores


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Princess

Me: Lioness.
Daniel: Girl.
Me: Knight.
Michael: Boy.
Me: Princess.
Daniel: Girl. That’s right because a Princess can’t marry a Princess.
Herself: Yes, she can. Men can marry each other.
Me: Well, yes but only in certain jurisdictions.
Daniel: They can get married, but it’s unusual.
Me: Yees.
Daniel: But they can’t have children.
Me: Well..
Herself: Yes, but they can only have girls.

25 Years Too Late


Posted in: Cork, Ireland

When I was in school, the acme of cool in Cork was Benetton. There was one tiny Benetton outlet on Patrick Street and that was where all the cool girls went to get their cool scarves.

I never went in there myself because I was too scared of its stacked neat shelves and the trendy girls looking through them. Also, I think my mother would have been reluctant to fork out a fortune for a Benetton scarf when I could have got a perfectly nice one much more cheaply in Dunne’s.

The summer of first year in college, I went to Italy to work as an au pair and I was horrified to discover that all the shops in Italy boasted rows and rows of folded tops and t-shirts. I had to overcome my nervousness of this layout or not shop at all. The mother of the child I was minding was, to my complete astonishment, dismissive of Benetton – “I suppose it’s alright if you want something cheap and cheerful,” she said. Cheap? Obviously, she had never been to Dunne’s.

But the years passed and, now, increasingly, I find myself picking up things in Benetton – you know, it’s handy and, if not cheap, not exactly expensive either, and cheerful. Next year, I will be out of school 25 years. There may be some sort of reunion, I feel. I suppose all the cool girls are shopping in Prada now though.

Can only help weight loss as part of a calorie controlled diet


Posted in: Boys, Hodge, Michael, Mr. Waffle

Saturday morning when I came down to breakfast, we had the following scene:

Michael (dancing around the floor and pointing): The cat has got a dead bird, the cat has got a dead bird.
Mr. Waffle (not looking up from the paper): Really, well fancy that.
Me: Eeek, dead bird, dead bird, dead bird.
Mr. Waffle (leaping from the table): Bloody hell (or words to that effect).

To the cat’s intense chagrin, he removed the corpse from her clutches and put it in the bin. All weekend, we’ve been finding tiny, downy, baby bird feathers under the presses. The killer in our midst doesn’t care.

Regular readers may recall that the cat has been put on a diet. She’s fighting back.

Something for the Weekend


Posted in: Boys, Siblings

Very busy. Dinner party at my sister’s on Friday night; GAA mini-leagues from 9.30 on Saturday morning; quick change into uniforms for the school Feis at 12 (no medals won, Daniel forgot the words to his rather difficult choice, Gugalaí Gug, the judges didn’t go for Michael’s Halloween number and herself refused to take part); then back home to greet a friend and her three children for lunch. I had swooped up the remains of my sister’s dinner party, so at least we were able to feed our guests though, the house, never tidy at the best of times, left a great deal to be desired. When they left, I spent several happy hours weeding. Tragic, I know. Sunday was spent recovering from the excesses of Saturday (including a nasty shoulder ache from my work with the pitchfork in what might as well be called the weed patch) and peering at the rain. Ah, the Irish summer.

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