Daniel: I don’t want to go to bed. I want to play desert soldiers.
Me: It’s bed time. You had all afternoon to play desert soldiers.
Him: But I only thought it up now.
Boys
Reasons to Visit the Midlands
Out of the blue last week, Michael expressed a desire to go orienteering. Ever obedient to our children’s whims, last Sunday we took them to Mullaghmeen Forest with their cousins (expert orienteers, their parents have been known to run around courses).
It was freezing (6 degrees at the end of April, what is happening to the weather? I digress) but once in the forest out of the wind, it was fine. Mr. Waffle had been very excited on the way down as it is one of the very few forests in Ireland which does not consist almost entirely of fir trees. I couldn’t work up any enthusiasm myself until I saw it. And he was quite right, it is lovely.
And then we went to visit a friend of mine from college who lives in the Midlands. She has her own business, her husband commutes from his job in the UK and she has three children, 8, 6 and 3. I always feel that staying sane in these circumstances is a very significant achievement. Anyway she tells me that she has decided to up the ante and that she is expecting another baby. She seems calm and cheerful in a manner that may indicate that she has finally tipped over into insanity. One can but gasp in awe.
We Laughed, We Cried
We had the school Feis last Saturday. The Princess won second place with her rendition of “An TÃogar” by Máire Nà Ghallchobhair. She was very pleased.
And she got cake.
Neither of her brothers won anything (“An Seilide” by Gabriel Rosenstock for Michael and “An bhfaca tú mo ShéamaisÃn?” Traditional for Daniel). They both cried. Not in the course of their performance but on hearing the results of the independent jury. Alas.
Lingually Erupting Mandibular Incisors
Look, Daniel has shark teeth.
Cool!
Alas
I am a reasonably good cook. I am not brilliant but I think I have attained the status of solid. I can roast most things. I can make stew. I can make cake. I can make biscuits. I can make pastry. Yet, despite this, I cannot make Rice Krispie buns. The mortification. I was at my sister-in-law’s house the other day and she spoke lyrically of the ease with which she could melt chocolate in her pyrex bowl.
I came home, I looked at the glut of Easter eggs on our shelves and the boys and I set to making Rice Krispie buns. I used the pyrex bowl. The chocolate melted but not enough. It clumped together. The Rice Krispies and chocolate failed to mix. They were horrible. I just threw them out this evening.
What, oh internet, am I doing wrong?
A Youth of Extreme Privation
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?
