Daniel: I’m the best in the class at Irish dancing.
Me: Good for you.
Daniel (after some reflection): The best except for S.
Me: Well, you know, S’s mother is a dancer, so you would expect him to be good at dancing.
Daniel: Am I good at what you do Mummy?
Me: Well, um, you probably have latent middle manager skills.
Daniel
In the Wars
Daniel is a very cautious child. He does not like to be hurt. He is careful. This is why it is particularly upsetting to him that he has, in the last week, swallowed a 5 cent coin and fallen while crossing the road (not simultaneously).
The coin is still, I think, lodged in his tummy – it may be there forever but he seems to have recovered from the pain of having it travel slowly down his oesophagus. His fall, where he landed on his nose and lips (though, mercifully, apparently not his teeth) continues to be a source of grief. He bled profusely. He now has swollen lips and a big scrape on his nose and his glasses need to be replaced again which will not be possible before Christmas. Even his siblings have been moved to sympathy.
Christmas Traditions
When we lived in Belgium, Saint Nicolas used to come on December 6 on his donkey and leave chocolate in children’s shoes. You had to leave out beer for Saint Nicolas and a carrot for the donkey. Then Santa came on December 25. Then, thanks to the kind intervention of our Italian upstairs neighbours, the Befana came on January 6 bearing sweets.
The first year we came back from Belgium, Saint Nicolas came to Ireland, Santa came, of course, and the Befana came too. Last year, only Saint Nicolas and Santa came. This year, in the context of the current economic climate, all having to tighten our belts etc, etc., only Santa was due to visit. And that was going fine until the Princess came home speaking about Black Peter – she had been learning about Christmas traditions in other countries at school. “But surely,†I said stupidly, “you remember Père Fouettard.â€
Her little face lit up, “Oh yes, when is Saint Nicolas coming?†Again, slightly caught on the hop, I said, “Oh, he comes on the 6th and that’s long gone, he’s not coming this year, I’d say Santa’s taking over his duties.†There was much weeping and wailing. Then the Princess looked at me shrewdly and said, “When does the Befana come?†I see the Befana making a comeback in this jurisdiction.
The Princess, is proving slightly trying in the matter of Santa more generally. Sample question delivered in front of her brothers: If there is no Tooth Fairy and no Easter Bunny, how do you know there’s a Santa? I see dangerous shoals ahead. Next year I am looking forward to questions on the nativity.
And finally in this rather miscellaneous category: it is the time of year for infant classes to put on nativity plays. We have two shepherds in our house (am very envious of colleague with 4 children who counts a Joseph and a Mary among their number). Religion can be faulted on many grounds but certainly the selection of music available for Christmas is not one of them. Some of the most beautiful songs are Christmas carols. Why is it then that children always end up singing the rather dreary “Away in a Manger� Furthermore, our lads have also added to their repertoire the classic “Hosanna rock, hosanna roll†which sounds pretty much as you might imagine. I suppose if I continue in this strain, it is only a matter of time before I begin campaigning to restore the Latin mass.
Fun with Boys
I was putting my make-up on this morning and Daniel was lying in bed watching me. I heard a pinging noise behind me like one of the buttons from my back pocket bouncing on the floor. I made a tsking noise and turned around. Daniel started to laugh, “It was me, it was a snotâ€.
A Right On Christmas Tale
Recently, some of the children’s friends came to visit. In the car on the way home from school, we saw a Christmas advertisement for Coca Cola with a happy Santa and a large lorry. “Coca Cola is poisonous,†opined our five year old visitor, “we are not allowed to drink it at home.” “No, it is not poisonous,” said his eight year old brother. “Do you know,” he asked me, “where Coca Cola is mostly made?” Without pausing for a reply, which was as well, really, he continued, “In South America, in Brazil and they won’t let their workers unionise.” This conversation was somewhat beyond Daniel but he was trying hard to follow the general gist, unlike his sister and brother who had lost interest. He turned to his little friend, the five year old, and asked anxiously, “Is Santa really poisoning the Coca-Cola?”
In Perfect Harmony
The weather around here has been snowy and everything is looking beautiful.
This inspired me to start singing Christmas songs. I was half way through “O Holy Night” over the breakfast table (my family have to put up with a great deal) when Daniel said, “I know that one.” I stopped and smiled encouragingly, “You sing it then, sweetheart.” He began at once, “Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier.”
