Her:� Look Mummy, a marmalade.
Me:� A marmalade stain?� Where?
Her
(impatiently): No.
Me: You
know that marmalade is a kind of jam made from oranges?
Her:
(Pause) But in the fountain Mummy, a marmalade.
Me:
(Peering into the fountain) Do you mean a mermaid sweetheart?
Her: YES.
Princess
The Hague -Our Favourite City of Vomit
Last time we went to the Hague, the Princess was sick, she vomitted on all of our friends’ sheets. All night. This time there were no sick children. There was one sick mother, but it wasn’t me. And she was recovering from the vomitting bug. And, so far, none of my children appears to have caught it. So all in all, city of vomit is an unfair appellation but give a city a bad name and all that.
We had a lovely time in the Hague over the weekend and the problem with having a lovely time is that it gives you no bloggable material. Everything was lovely (except for the Dutch Mama’s illness and she struggled womanfully to conceal it, so it didn’t overly affect us). Mr. Dutch Mama spent part of the weekend building a bike shed in the front garden and all of the time being tall therefore effectively reinforcing all my stereotypes about Dutch people which was deeply gratifying. The Princess was charmed by the toys available for her delectation and, in a high point for her, got to have a bath with her little hiberno-dutch hosts. The Dutch Mama, illness nothwithstanding, spent all of the weekend with one or other of our babies in her arms thereby freeing us up to read, eat, stop our daughter from savaging our hosts etc.
I was struck by what very good little children our hosts were and though their Mama said that it was really down to them and nothing to do with her parenting, I can’t help wondering whether this is actually the case. And they eat everything. The Princess consumed an apple and a morsel of chicken over the weekend. Oh, and plenty of biscuits. Why is my child a fussy eater? I blame her father, I enjoy that.
And we left with a supply of cute little boy clothes; please admire Daniel in Dutch jumper:
Child Safety
For the
boys:
Our video shop boasts steep stairs. You cannot return videosthrough the postbox, oh no, you must go down the steps, queue and give them to the cashier. As we work our way through The Sopranos (series 1 down, only 6 years behind now), it is becoming an increasing pain returning the videos and our fines are becoming astronomical. We have turned over a new leaf and intend to return the videos the following day. Last Sunday, Mr. Waffle went out with the boys in the double buggy with the express intention of returning the video.
Me: You’ll never get them down the stairs.
Him: Well, I was thinking that if I saw somebody
who looked trustworthy…
Me: Absolutely, you could leave the boys briefly with somebody and nip down..
Him: No, I was thinking I could ask him or her to return the video for me.
Me: Oh right, yeah.
For the Princess:
Me: Tell Daddy about our trip out this afternoon.
Her: Mummy didn’t close the strap on the buggy.
Me: Well, I never close the strap on the buggy now, you’re a big girl.
Him: Gasp.
Her: Yes, but Mummy tipped the buggy up in the air..
Him: Gasp.
Me: Ah yes, ahem, it was an accident.
Her: Yes and I fell on the road.
Me: This is being taken completely out of context.
Her: In front of a bus.
Him: REALLY??
Me: Um, yes, but I mean the bus had stopped to let us cross and we were on the zebra
crossing, it wasn’t exactly thundering down on our helpless child.
Him and Her in unison: But you should have strapped me/her into the buggy.
We’re off to the Hague this weekend to visit the Dutch Mama and her family; I wonder what fresh hazards I can unearth there?
Original Sin
The Princess and I went to the Musée des Beaux Arts recently. Oh yes, we grudge no exertion in dredging up material for readers of the Bulletin’s website.
We stopped in front of the Lucas Cranach picture of Adam and Eve and I told her the story which made a significant impression. We went over it a number of times (“tell me again, again, again about Adam and Evil”)
Later in the day she asked me, “Mummy, what are Adam and Evil’s full names?
Me: Adam and Eve and those are their full names.
Her: But their surnames?
Me: Nope, they haven’t got surnames.
Her: Fancy that! [Pause] But normally (too much exposure to the language of Voltaire) we have surnames, Mummy.
A couple of days after this I gave her an apple and she looked daggers at me. “God will be cross with me for eating the apple,” she said indignantly.
Comments
belgianwaffle
on 14 March 2006 at 09:09
Dr TS, you are funny. Do I know you or are you just a random internet person? 
0
Sweetie(s) given ���
poggle
on 14 March 2006 at 09:12
She is absolutely fantastic – Adam and Evil indeed.
I suspect she might well have chomped her way through the apple of knowledge already. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
DoctorTripswitch
on 14 March 2006 at 14:57
Why, is your surname Pratt or something? It’d be one hell of a shot in the dark.. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
Friar Tuck
on 14 March 2006 at 18:07
I think the good doctor is on to something! It would explain the word “pratfall”. ���
belgianwaffle
on 21 March 2006 at 20:58
Pog, quite. NO, it is not, Pratt. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
DoctorTripswitch
on 22 March 2006 at 12:51
I only ask because I’m a quarter Pratt. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���
The Belgians, they drive with such dash and élan. Road signs and markings are advisory not compulsory, if you’Â’re Belgian. The Princess has a little ditty that she learnt in school which shows the mindset of the Belgian driver:
Dans ma petite auto, je roule, je roule
Dans ma petite auto, je roule à toute vitesse.
Quand le signale est rouge, il faut que je m’arrête (bis)
Quand le signale est vert, je fonce, je fonce.
A rough translation: I zoom around in my little car, alas when the traffic lights are red, I have to stop, however, once they are green, I speed off at a dangerous rate.
A little of this has rubbed off on me over the years. My driving style has been described as “exciting” by Mr. Waffle. My parking is pretty good too, I can shoehorn our ridiculously long car into surprisingly small places. If you need to decant three little people, you like to be close to your destination, trust me. I can tell you, I never thought that I would be able to do this kind of thing when I spent many hours preparing for my driving test by repeatedly trying and abysmally failing to parallel park in the car park of my mother’s golf club while she went and played a round of golf.
I try to keep the worst of my offences from Mr. Waffle, but the Princess has turned out to be a fifth columnist in this regard.
She and Mr. Waffle went out together in the car recently and as they toured around looking for a parking slot, herself kept up a monologue in the back “Lord, will we ever find a space, look that man has got the last space in Brussels. After a bit, she said to her father ““Daddy, if you can’Â’t find anything, we can always park in front of a garage, itÂ’s a little bit illegal, but itÂ’s alright”.” I hastened to explain to my outraged husband that I would only do this for a short time, like when going in to collect her from school and if I double park, I put on my hazards, which makes it legal. Practically. Yes indeed, if thereÂ’’s a large station wagon impeding your exit, itÂ’s probably me. Or, of course, it could be a Belgian.
I wrote this the other day and as some kind of hideous judgement by the gods of parking, all day today a car
has been parked outside my garage preventing me using my gas guzzling behemoth. Alas.
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A Culinary Chasm
Saturday – Snails
Sunday – McDos
Also, on a completely separate note, for guilt ridden (i.e. all) mothers only, I recommend this.
Comments
on 13 March 2006 at 14:19
Sweetie(s) given
on 13 March 2006 at 19:25
Sweetie(s) given
on 14 March 2006 at 09:09
JD, um, what precisely…and where’s your new blog mister?
Kristin, yes it IS very comforting, isn’t it?
BHM for the snails or the McDo or the range?
Sweetie(s) given
As for that blog post – more mothers should read it. I have to say for myself, though, that – now I am over the bout of postnatal depression – I have pretty much decided that I am a great mum no matter what I do. This is pretty easy once you realise that all those mums who talk about potty-training at 3 months and bed-sharing without ever losing any sleep and only ever feeding little Cosmo and Arabella organic, grain-fed grains etc are talking a load of bollocks. They are liars and I bet they don’t even have any babies.
on 21 March 2006 at 20:57
Sweetie(s) given
