Me: When I was little, we had no computers.
Mr. Waffle: And there was no such thing as a DS.
Me: Or a mobile phone.
Michael: Did you have scissors?
Michael
World’s Most Nostalgic Six Year Old
Michael: I don’t want those socks, they’re too small and prickly.
Me: OK, we’ll get you another pair. Maybe it’s time to retire these.
Michael: NO, no don’t retire them. My socks! My beautiful socks! Don’t throw them out.
Me: But Michael, they’re too small what do you need them for?
Michael: To look at in the drawer.
If it were up to Michael, nothing would ever leave the house.
Hungry
Michael eats nothing at dinner. Now he says he can’t sleep at night. When we go into him he announces dolefully, “I have a hunger problem.” Tell me he’ll grow out of it.
Pedantic not Sexist
Michael: A woman can’t be a schoolmaster.
Me: But Michael, your own teacher is a woman.
Michael: No, a woman can’t be a schoolmaster.
Me: Of course she can.
Mr. Waffle: Can a woman be a schoolmistress, Michael?
Michael: Yes, of course.
Literally
Those of you following Ireland’s progress will know that the banks have behaved badly. I can be lyrical on this point. I have been, in fact, to the extent that the children are dimly aware of the banks’ role in our current crisis and can’t quite understand why I insist that they leave their money there rather than letting them spend it – by far their preferred option.
We were in the car in the morning on the way to school and I was talking to Mr. Waffle about this repossession. The sheriff was defeated, at least temporarily, by the “random legal word generator”. In this case the words “constitution”, “common law”, “separation of powers” and “inviolable” were brandished to good effect. While, the arguments adduced made no legal sense whatsoever, the emotional argument that the banks had got away without any sanction did strike a chord. “Of course,” said I bitterly “the banks got away with murder.”
Michael piped up from the back seat, “WHAT, the banks murdered someone?”
God and Pharmacology Working Together to Make a Better World
I was ill last week. I am almost never properly ill (as opposed to whining and sniffling into work with some Lemsip in my bag). I did not enjoy it. I had taken some time off work to go to Cork with the children for mid-term and I was not pleased with the timing of my illness. Reluctantly I dragged myself to the doctor and paid €55 for a diagnosis and a course of antibiotics. I started straight away.
My father is a pharmacologist. He is against the reckless use of antibiotics. This was therefore my second ever course of antibiotics. They were quite miraculous. I was able to drive to Cork as planned. I picked the children up from school having told them that this would not be possible as I was too sick. They were pleased. Michael was unsurprised: “I told the teacher you were sick and we wouldn’t be able to go to Cork and I was sad. So, we all said a prayer for you to be better and now you are!”
