The Princess completed her education in Belgium today and I felt quite sad as I walked her to and from school. She was unmoved.
I took the three children as well as the childminder and her two children (it seemed like a good idea at the time) to the ophthalmologist this afternoon. We spent an hour and a half there. Truly, these are times that try men’s souls. The Princess was excruciatingly badly behaved. The only crumb of comfort was that both she and her brothers were very well behaved during their longish examinations and didn’t whine about the eye drops which appeared unpleasant.
I noted, by the simple expedient of nosily peering over the doctor’s shoulder as she typed up my children’s results, that the beautifully dressed and charmingly behaved boy who was waiting patiently for his appointment, shared a surname with the woman who will one day be queen of Belgium. I later pointed this out to the Princess and followed up with the rider that this was, effectively, her first chance to impress a Prince and it had been an abject failure. I further told her that I did not think that a real Princess would insist on lying (with her brothers) on the waiting room floor with her feet in the air showing off her stripy underpants. I know what you are thinking; sarky comments of this nature are unwelcome.
On the eye front, the Princess and Michael have identical optic nerves (who knew you could tell); the Princess very deftly manoeuvered letters to reflect those on the screen; Michael mortified me by not knowing what an apple was or any of his colours (“I dunno”) but Daniel redeemed my reputation. The Princess and Michael, as well as their identical optic nerves, share perfect eyesight. This was the good news. Unfortunately, poor Daniel’s eyesight is not improving. We have been given a prescription for stronger glasses and he may yet have to have an operation. We will have a long note to take to someone in Dublin. I imagine we will have to translate it first.