Michael is doing woodwork at school. I didn’t think that he would like it but he does. They made a wooden plane and it is very impressive. He says it would be better if he hadn’t had to use wood glue and the pieces fitted perfectly but it looks pretty good to me.
Normally I am not a morning person at all but the other morning, it was springy and I was cheerful and I leapt out of bed singing. An irate voice came from the bedroom next door. “Mum, we need to talk about singing first thing in the morning,” said Michael, “this is a terrible sound to wake up to.” Children can be a little crushing.
Michael’s back tyre went completely flat at school one day. Daniel said to him, “You take my bike and I will push yours home.” Because he can be quite saintly and Michael is a lot smaller and lighter than him. The walk home nearly killed the misfortunate child and he was in no way mollified by his parents saying, “If it happens again, leave the bike locked in school and we’ll collect it later in the car.” Michael was, at least, grateful.
In other bike commuting news, the children have an approved cycling route to school which involves crossing a busy road near our house at the pedestrian junction. The other morning while following the parent-approved route (as she bitterly pointed out to me) Herself was the victim of bike on bike violence. This guy came up to the lights at speed, broke the lights, knocked her over and then cycled on until halted by outraged motorists who themselves picked her up and made him go back and apologise to her. She was ok – cuts and bruises only and a bit of a shock. She was back in the saddle reasonably rapidly and seems to have suffered no lasting ill effects. I suppose, all I can say is that I’m glad that guy was on a bicycle and not speeding in a car.
There’s no two ways about it, the pitiful cycling infrastructure in Dublin makes it hard for kids to cycle to school.
Daniel: Is that vaseline on your eyebrows?
Me: Tiny bit, yeah why?
Daniel: I’ve noticed it before but I always thought it was just that your eyelids were sweaty.
Daniel’s geography teacher fills the children’s hearts with fear. Even the Princess has a grudging respect for him.
Daniel said to me the other day that they were doing longshore drift. “And,” said he, “there’s a thing called a groyne wall which protects against it. We talked about it all through class and nobody laughed.”
That is real power.
Did you know that your children will continue to loose teeth well into their teens? Well, they will. While I have no recollection of the tooth fairy playing any role in my life growing up, the same is not true of my children who have enjoyed regular payments over the years. However, as time marches on and the tooth fairy gets older and tireder, payments have not been as reliable as they once were which led to this unfortunate scene at dinner the other night.
Michael: Ok, who’s the tooth fairy?
Me: Um, the magical, mystical tooth fairy, who knows? Why do you ask?
Michael: Because this is getting to beyond a joke, this tooth (he points to the hole near his front teeth on the lower right which I feel sure somehow has been pointed out before) has been under my pillow for about a fortnight.
Me: You the tooth fairy has many calls on his/her time.
Him: Will I just take the money from your purse?
Me: Somehow that takes away the magic.
