When I got home from work this evening, there was an envelope by my bed with the words “To Mummy” on it in the Princess’s handwriting. I gazed at it fondly and then I opened it, this is what it said:
“Micel is a cruel stuck-up idiotic prig and a loser but he’s ashamed to admit it. If you are going to deal with him anser here.”
Underneath there is a line for my comments. Poor Micel, he crosses his sister at his peril.
Michael said to me recently: Money is good but credit cards are gooder. With credit cards you can buy anything you want and you don’t have to pay any money.
I tried to put him right but he explained to me that he had seen credit cards in operation in the toy shops and knew that his approach worked. I fear that he may not realise what people are saying about this attitude.
In his defence, he is only five. I hope the subordinated bond holders will let him off with a stern talking to.
An old friend of mine was in Dublin briefly. I met him on Sunday. We went for a walk in the Park which was pleasant. Alas, it did not stop there. Because he is a brother (religious, not related) and he expressed an interest, I thought that I would have him to dinner and we would eat at the same time as the children. I would never do this to anyone else. I think, I felt because he was in a religious order, he needed more exposure to small children and he would enjoy it. WHY would I think that?
So, it started off auspiciously enough, the boys played boardgames with the guest, the Princess read her book and ignored him but was not actively disagreeable. After a particularly contentious game of snap/beggar my neighbour when Daniel swept the cards from the table and collapsed sobbing and red faced on the floor, Mr. Waffle thought it would be better to turn on the television to calm the troops. Because we live in one room, this meant that my friend had to watch Elmo too. He was polite, but I suspect that this was not what he was used to in the lofty circles in which he moves in Rome. Certainly, the Princess shushing him was toe-curlingly ghastly.
Dinner was just dreadful. The children were all quite excited by the guest. They manifested this by shouting over him. Daniel, for reasons that are not entirely clear to me, spent much of dinner leaning back on his chair and howling like a wolf. Earlier in the day they had seen this video and it made a profound impression on them. The first time they performed it, it was mildly amusing but by the 25th any entertainment value had pretty much evaporated.
Our friend was, as becomes an American and a religious man, polite about his welcome and saintly with our children. You can read his, frankly, untruthful account of his visit here. In fact, the only truthful thing he said is what he said when we apologised for the children’s “high-spirited” behaviour: “Don’t worry, it strengthens my vocation.”
I tried to upload to youtube a taster of what he faced. It wouldn’t work. You would have to imagine it over dinner and louder. Much louder. And I couldn’t quite face showing you where the paint has been knocked off the wall behind the couch by the children standing on their heads and kicking it.
*For the religious: Mark 10:14, not Matthew 5:3 or Matthew 5:10 although, if the matter were put to them, the children themselves would unhesitatngly plump for Matthew 5:10.
The Town Mouse delegation, being tourists, had been to visit the National Museum and spoke animatedly, if not enthusiastically, about the bog bodies. I think the words TM used were, “Someone should give those bodies a decent burial.”
Not having set foot inside the door of the National Museum since 2008, I decided it was time to bring the children to investigate. I keyed them up the night before, I made popcorn and gave it to them sitting on steps adjacent to the Masonic Hall before going in so that they would not be hungry. We passed through the shop safely and saw two bog bodies which were holding everyone’s interest nicely before Daniel announced that he needed to go to the toilet. This inevitably involved passing the cafe and after that, all was doom and gloom. Michael wept for crisps and did not stop until we got back to the car. The nice Garda who tried to cheer him up was treated with tears for her pains. The Princess ran off twice in a huff.
Culture is very tiring, I find.
Michael: The battery on my solar powered lamp needs to be charged.
Me: Well, we’ll put it out in the sun.
Michael: Put it out in the sun, NOW.
Me: Sweetheart, it’s night time, the sun doesn’t shine at night.
Michael (imperiously): Make the sun shine at night!
Childminder: She wanted to walk home from school rather than take the bus, so she jollied the boys along and we did it.
Me (awed): How long did it take?
Childminder: About 45 minutes.
Michael: Yes, and I’m sore at my leg.
Childminder: She made it a game for the boys.
Michael: And then she threatened to take away my bunny, if I didn’t keep walking.
Princess: Snort.
Me: Well done, sweetheart.
Her: I led the way.
Me: Good for you, how did you come?
Her: The opposite way from how we drive to school..you know we kept walking straight and then turned right by the “video’s, pool, games” shop where the apostrophe is improperly used, then….
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