I found the mug that the children use for rinsing out after brushing their teeth on top of the toilet cistern. “Why is it there?” I asked the children. The Princess explained. Apparently the cleaner had used a new exciting and particularly foamy disinfectant in the toilet. Michael had used the mug to scoop out the foam and play with it. Words fail me.
Peeved
The Irish Times delivers its newspaper to your door on Saturday morning if you pay €1 extra per paper for the privilege. I decided to give Mr. Waffle a subscription to Saturday’s Irish Times for Christmas. Like all the best presents, there was something in it for me also.
The first Saturday of the year was January 1. Did the Irish Times come? No, it did not. During the week, I called. Although I had experienced no difficulty in requesting and paying for my subscription, no one was available to answer my call about actually receiving it. They said that they would call me back, if I left a message. I left a message. Did they call me back? No, they did not.
The second Saturday of the year was January 8. Did the Irish Times come? No, it did not. I had thought that New Year’s day might have been an aberration. Clearly not. I emailed on Saturday, January 8, politely but firmly asking where my paper might be. On Wednesday, which I think you will agree, is not immediately, I received the following reply:
Hi Anne,
Sorry for the delay getting back to you and for the missed delivery last
Saturday. Our driver had some difficulty locating your address.I have now found it on google maps and will pass directions to him. He
will make sure that your delivery is made next Saturday and each
Saturday after that. I have credited your account for these 2 days. This
will add 2 additional deliveries onto your subscription when it is
expires.Please give me a call if there are any further problems.
Thanks
Does it strike you that someone might have looked at Google maps at some point after 17 December when they took the money from my account and before January 12 by which point they had missed two deliveries? Never mind, we soldier on. My constant harping about this has come to the attention of the children and now every time we pass blameless Evening Herald vendors on the street, Michael asks, “Is that the man who took your money and didn’t give you your paper?”
The third Saturday of the year was January 16. Did the Irish Times come? No, it did not. I have sent an email to my contact. I await hearing.
In the interim, I might advise strongly against going for the Irish Times delivery service which at €1 a pop is expensive and, worse, doesn’t appear to actually deliver the promised service. And it’s not as though I didn’t already have many reasons to hate the Irish Times.
Outnumbered
Last night, the Princess had a friend to stay. All the children went to bed at 9 o’clock. At 10.00 we trapped the boys in our bed and they finally went to sleep. At about 10.30 a very loud alarm in a local municipal facility went off. Phone calls to authorities led to the information that nobody could turn it off. The Princess and her friend came downstairs to complain about the noise. We said that they could sleep in our bed (at the back of the house). We transferred the sleeping boys back to their own beds from ours and in hopped the girls. At 11.30 we decanted the girls and were finally able to get into our own bed. We were delighted. True, four other people had already slept in it that evening, but parents have low standards.
Oh yeah, while we were waiting to get to bed, appropriately enough, we watched the DVD box set of “Outnumbered” which is distressingly accurate.
Nostalgia
Christmas 2007 – Bike 1
Christmas 2010 – Bike 2
J’accuse!
The Princess was going through the wastepaper basket for her own obscure reasons this morning.
Her: Why did you throw this out?
Me: Because it’s last year’s telephone directory.
Her: But I want it.
Pause.
Her: Look at this receipt. It’s for books; including the Percy Jackson book I got from Santa. Does this mean that Mummy and Daddy are really Santa?
Anguished pause.
Me: No, it means that we bought that book as a present for you but when we saw that Santa had bought it we gave it away to someone else.
It’s like living with bloody Sherlock Holmes.
Is Everything Genetic?
Daniel: I’m the best in the class at Irish dancing.
Me: Good for you.
Daniel (after some reflection): The best except for S.
Me: Well, you know, S’s mother is a dancer, so you would expect him to be good at dancing.
Daniel: Am I good at what you do Mummy?
Me: Well, um, you probably have latent middle manager skills.
