Herself: It must be so hard to be a vegan.
Me: I suppose.
Her: No caviar.

Daniel’s new GAA training regime is killing us. He has a match at weekends and training two evenings a week from 5.00 to 6.15. Who does this suit? On Thursdays he goes with a neighbour. When he gets home about 6.40 he wolfs down his dinner and goes to choir practice at 7.15 with the Princess and me.

On Monday, Mr. Waffle brings him and the neighbour’s child out for 5.00. I leave work at 5.30 (deeply inconvenient); cycle home like a fury; hop into the car at our house at 5.45 (left there by Mr. Waffle following depositing of children); sit in traffic for 30 minutes; collect the boys; drop the neighbour’s child home; and return, late, for our own childminder, who is at home with the other pair, at 6.40.

All I can say is, it’s a good job that Daniel really loves it.

Michael: What are nits?
Me: Lice eggs.
Michael: Little baby lice?

Michael still does not have lice. Rejoice.

As I write there is a code red storm sweeping the country. It’s been a little unimpressive here in Dublin but talking to my sister in Cork, she said that she had never seen anything like it. Her office, north of the city had no electricity, no water (fun) and bits of the building blew away. On the 30 km drive back to the city, she passed 15 (15!) trees which had fallen on to the main road and were being chopped up to let traffic past by heroic council workers. She’s now safely at home.

And then Cork was battered by floods recently as well. To be fair Cork is always flooding. Corcaigh, the Irish for Cork, means “a marshy place”. Hey, building on the flood plain didn’t start today or yesterday. But still, I was on the phone to a colleague in Cork and he said, “I’ve got to leave now because the flood waters are rising” which was quite dramatic, I think you will agree.

Also, we have lice – only one of us so far but where will it all end?

Herself has begun to address Mr. Waffle and me as “sir” and “ma’am”. Too much time in the American South?

Herself: He’s not the brightest bulb in the barrel, is he?

Daniel: Nobody’s perfect.
Me: Nope.
Daniel: Except Jesus, Jesus is perfect.
Me: I suppose.
Daniel: Actually, no he’s not, he’s a bit of a goody two shoes.