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Part the fifteenth

22 December, 2004 at 10:42 am by belgianwaffle

Heather sat at her mahogany desk leafing through various invitations and begging
letters.  “I don’’t care how beautiful the view of Central Park is from their apartment, I’’m not going to listen to the Pitts and their Hollywood stories for a tepid gin ” she thought.  Perhaps she could ask Bobble to pop in and deliver a Christmas card whilst she was over there. Although, she couldn’’t help wondering if this New York trip of
Bobble’s wasn’’t some sort of ploy to be working against their plan.  Lazy Jack Silver had been so quiet recently and Heather wondered if this recent Italian trip that Bobble had made may have resulted in a meeting with some of the “family” over there. Perhaps they had provided a more intense drug to keep LJS in this deep sleep.
After all, she’’d never seen anyone react to Nurofen quite like this before. If she hadn’’t actually seen him slumped in the cellar then she’’d think he’’d just disappeared.

If only she could talk things over with Norah but the only word from her at the moment was “passport” as she moved things around in her panic. Where was Waffle when she  needed her? Just slipping off and leaving a note about needing to spend time with her family wasn’’t very helpful.

The truth of the matter was that Heather couldn’t cope with the thought of spending
Christmas alone in the Schloss with Friar Tuck.  There was something deeply unsettling about the way he sidled into the room and, although perfectly pleasant on the surface, Heather knew what he was capable of. Maybe she would have to return to England and then the Friar would leave the Schloss. He wouldn’’t be stupid enough to follow her
to England, would he?

Oh, sod Christmas, she thought. If it weren’’t for the thought of a new diamond to add to the collection then she’’d just forget about it completely.  There was no way that she would fall into the sentimental claptrap of childhood memories of Christmas.

However, if she did return to England who would look after LJS?  Maureen was nowhere to be seen. Bobble would be in New York. If Norah ever found her passport, then she’’d be off.  This wasn’’t working out as she had planned.  However, after a rest over Christmas perhaps she would be able to find some new way of tackling the problem. All she needed was someone to look after LJS while she took a few days off.  Was this
too much to ask?


on 31 December 2004 at 15:53

He’s always been a lightweight with drugs, that LJS. The big wuss.

Friar Tuck

on 04 January 2005 at 18:15

Sidled?! That seems so snake-like. Oh… {unpleasant reality dawns}


on 05 January 2005 at 12:07

Now, now, Friar Tuck – that would be ‘slid’ or ‘slithered’.
Whereas ‘sidling’ is more …. well … Gollum-like, I think you’ll find.
Does that help, at all?


on 05 January 2005 at 13:57

Heather the genius. I hope that if I give you a sweetie it gets to you.


on 10 January 2005 at 00:32

The Pitts did send their regards – from separate apartments.


on 10 January 2005 at 21:19

Topical, Bobble.
on 17 March 2005 at 10:38

What’s happened to Lazy Jack? Is he okay?


on 22 March 2005 at 08:55

He’s actually quite unwell, I’ve been worried about him….


on 22 March 2005 at 10:03

Just don’t ask Bobble to nurse him – you know what she’s like for fainting all over the blog …..


on 22 March 2005 at 10:58

I heard he was unmasked for the cad he really is and fled to South America, with only a copy of In Patagonia and a few stolen snatches of love poetry to his name.


on 22 March 2005 at 11:21

You mean … you mean … he’s left us all?
Oh no.


on 22 March 2005 at 12:13

Don’t be like that Pog… it’s better this way. After all, he’ll always have the Schloss and he has left us a legacy polished prose [that] subtly distanced him… a blend of intellectual passion and emotional coldness, the postmodern glitter of surface and patchwork, shorn of all authorial judgement.
Can’t be bad for a figment of ‘wafs deeply seated inadequacies, unresolved love interests and materialistic longings.


on 22 March 2005 at 12:19

But … but …
Oh, okay then.
(Oh – and don’t forget H’s contribution to his saga. I’d hide if I were you, jd.)


on 22 March 2005 at 12:38

It’s ok. I’m in South America.


on 22 March 2005 at 13:56

You just don’t love us any more, do you?
I’m gutted.
Gutted, I tells ya.


on 22 March 2005 at 14:02

Sorry, you’ll have to speak up… it’s a bad line. Did you say something about lewd?


on 22 March 2005 at 14:04

Yeah. Well. That too.


on 22 March 2005 at 14:04

Patagonia and lightly fictionised people. Land of the living wind. Valparaiso next. And all that…..
on 22 March 2005 at 14:09

Jealous? Me?


on 22 March 2005 at 18:05



on 23 March 2005 at 10:20

Dashes water over Bobble’s inanimate form. Will have to give some thought to what exactly LJS is doing in South America but just you wait, my chickadees…

Happy Christmas

16 December, 2004 at 11:01 pm by belgianwaffle

I bought the Princess some clothes for Christmas at lunch time today. This evening I gave her the bag and she opened it and took out the items one by one (“t-shire, nice, skir, not nice, dwess, oh wow). Then she held the dress up to herself and using her chin to hold it in place, inspected herself in the mirror. She turned to me and said “Mummy, dwess open” and once I had opened the buttons, she stuck her hands in the sleeves and went to preen in the mirror. Her father said “Qui est belle?” She turned around to him, smiled smugly and said “belle, oui”. That’s my girl.

We’re going home tomorrow (hence emergency Christmas shop at lunch). We have spent this evening packing and organising and scurrying. And now that all is nearly completed, Hop hop has lost his other ear and I have to sew it back on. I am not pleased with the royal bunny.

So, I will be signing off until 2005. We’re back on January 4 when blog life will recommence. In the interim, may I wish you all a very happy Christmas and New Year.


on 17 December 2004 at 09:23

Sch?nen Weihnachten, Waffle.


on 18 December 2004 at 23:24

Krismas Njema na heri za mwaka mpya Waffle.


on 19 December 2004 at 23:23

Err, Au Rivour! Happy christmas et vous.
[I appologise profously for the awfulness of my written french, but I wanted to jump on the bandwagon :)]
on 19 December 2004 at 23:25

Καλά Χριστούγεννα και μια καλή χρονιά, από Mikeachim.
Have a good one.


on 20 December 2004 at 12:07

Frohliche Weinachten, Mrs Waffle and kin …


on 21 December 2004 at 13:07

Nollaig shona agus athbhliain faoi mhaise duit.


on 23 December 2004 at 23:13

same to you & the princess!
see you next year, JJ xxx


on 05 January 2005 at 13:56

Ooh, linguistic genius all round eh? Thanks for all your good wishes.

Baby, it’s cold inside

15 December, 2004 at 9:54 pm by belgianwaffle

It is cold right now in Brussels. Very cold. And foggy. All in all, not an ideal time for your boiler to break down: cold bedrooms and no hot water. I called the landlord – he suggested we go to the basement and press the button on the left. I said I had done that. He said he didn’t know what else we could do (to be fair to him, he set about calling a heating person but nothing had happened by the time we went to bed).

The weird thing was that none of our neighbours seemed to notice, even though the boiler serves the whole building so we were all affected.

Neighbour A is a DIY enthusiast and we tried to enlist him to help – it was news to him that there was a problem. Clearly he doesn’’t feel the cold.

Neighbour B seemed quite indifferent – another reptile ? Oddly, he seemed to feel it was up to us to sort it out: “Haven’’t you got the landlord’s number ?”

This morning when the heating guy finally rang, he wanted to know when somebody could let him in. Since we both work, we tried to enlist Neighbour C who works unusual hours. We knocked on her door before going to work. By definition, she had not had heating or hot water all night. Her reaction: “I heard you outside and I was going to ask what’’s happening.” We got the impression of a whole building full of adults waiting for the Waffle family to sort out their heating for them.

Mr Waflle suggests they’’re all youngest children. This, with apologies to the publishing exec, is because in his family the youngest child is regarded as mildly feckless. She was once described by a family member as “very brilliant you know, but she spends a lot of her time in this world looking for her other shoe”. In my family the youngest child is regarded as immensely responsible, far more so than, say, me. I think that our neighbours may all be eldest children.


on 16 December 2004 at 22:51

It does sound a little like your place pog, but I suppose at least we have a landlord to whine to…

Yes, we have no

14 December, 2004 at 11:16 pm by belgianwaffle

This morning Mr. Waffle left for work considerably before dawn and the Princess and I got ourselves out of the house on our own somewhat later.

She woke at 7.45 and I collected her from her bed.

“Would you like some porridge?”


“Will I open the zip on your sleeping bag?”


“Come on now, we’ll get up and have some breakfast”

“No, no bekast”

“OK, let’s change your nappy.”

“No, no, no! Pas changer, no nappy. Howl”

“OK, let’s just go have some porridge”

“No, down. DOWN”

Put child on floor.


“Will we put on your socks then sweetheart?”

“No, no sock”

We struggle through breakfast (no porridge, no porridge), my shower (no shower Mummy, no shower Mummy), dressing (rigourously folded arms while running about the room to evade capture) and leave the house.

“Will we go to the creche darling?”

“No. No creche.”

“We’ll see M”

“Yes M”

Remember it is M’s day off. “Actually, no, not today”

“No M?” Lusty sobs.

Arrive at creche after only one near miss (“exciting Mummy, again”). Deposit child. Weeping and gnashing of teeth “No mummy, no, no. Hop hop?” Realise Hop hop has been left in the car. Rescue Hop hop. Return to creche, child is playing happily. She catches sight of me and prostrates herself on the floor “No, mama, no, no,” she says reaching out her chubby little arms. I detach myself and depart. Very traumatic all round. I arrived at the office in a state of advanced exhaustion and had a relaxing day of meetings to recover.


on 15 December 2004 at 21:49

Hmm. Thank you pog for extracting the positive..

Part the fourteenth

13 December, 2004 at 8:47 pm by belgianwaffle

Norah looked up to see Waffle and Heather approaching. “We must get on” she said “he’s coming round”.   All five of them tripped down the stairs to the dungeon.  Heather gave Friar Tuck a cold look but made no comment.

“I hope he’s secure” said Heather to Norah, “you should never have left him – you know his nickname used to be Houdini Jack”.

Norah curled her lip and said “I don’t think you need to worry”. She took out the large key from her pocket and slipped it in the steel lock in the thick wooden door. Inside “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” could be heard on the TV. Norah entered the room and gasped.  Heather quickly pushed past her.  Two pairs of handcuffs were dangling from the radiators but there was no sign of LJS.  Bobble let out a tiny sigh and fainted.


on 13 December 2004 at 23:53

Oh crap. Sorry chaps – I appear to have buggered up.
PS when I curled my lip, was it like Elvis? It was like Elvis, wasn’t it? Was it? It was. I knew it. Uh huh huh.


on 13 December 2004 at 23:55

By way of apology for underestimating Houdini J. 1
Sweetie(s) given

Friar Tuck

on 14 December 2004 at 16:45

* Secretly rejoicing that he’s the only man left in the castle *


on 14 December 2004 at 23:05

Bobble, you’re right, as discussed. Norah, of course. And another sweetie, cool. Thanks. FT, well, that’s what you think.

Friar Tuck

on 15 December 2004 at 00:30

Oh, so I see how it works around here! You have to fall prostrate on the floor while howling to get your way.


on 15 December 2004 at 21:48

FT, well spotted.


on 16 December 2004 at 12:45

Norah’s dead good at the lip curling …
Unlike me.


on 16 December 2004 at 22:52

Well pog, you have your eyebrows.

1st birthday

13 December, 2004 at 8:38 pm by belgianwaffle

Today is my blog anniversary but I am of course keeping my blog a deep dark secret.  You, however, may congratulate me for my tenacity etc. etc.


on 13 December 2004 at 22:40

Many happy blog returns of the day & joyeuse blogiversaire


on 13 December 2004 at 23:56

Happy Blirthday Dear Waffle x


on 14 December 2004 at 01:42

Happy blogday, Lady of the Waffle.

Friar Tuck

on 14 December 2004 at 03:10

We’re supposed to congratulate you for your tentacles?! Why?

Friar Tuck

on 14 December 2004 at 03:17

You should have told them about the time you hiked across the Amazon jungle carrying nothing but an extra pair of socks and a compass. It’s probably as true as that “half a novel” crap.


on 14 December 2004 at 11:09

*sings* Happy Birthday dear blog
Happy Birthday dear blog
it and I share a biiiiiirthdaaaaaaay
hye, that makes your blog a sagittarius.


on 14 December 2004 at 12:05

Besides – you are in the process of co-authoring a masterpiece yourself, waffle …….


on 14 December 2004 at 21:35

Happy blogiversary.


on 14 December 2004 at 23:03

Oooh, thank you all so much for your blog birthday wishes, you are kind.
on 16 December 2004 at 11:50

Missed it. As with so much else these days. Ah well, here’s a rue de Tr?ves special…. 1
Sweetie(s) given


on 16 December 2004 at 22:50

Ooh Jack a sweetie, you are kind. I like your use of the accent on Treves. Do you get to come to this part of the world a bit then?

Christmassy things

12 December, 2004 at 10:30 pm by belgianwaffle

Here I am, so keen on my new job that I did a bit of work this evening. And promptly lost it. So while microsoft tries to retrieve it for me, I will take deep breaths and blog.

I love the job, so far, I mean, it’s early days and I haven’t got paid yet, but I am enjoying myself.  And even though the poor Princess was sick last week, I am still glad to be back.  Dutifully, Mr. Waffle took time off on Friday to mind sick baby and take her to the doctor. This was the first time he has taken her to the doctor. Last time, she didn’t like it much.  But it was September and in his other office. However, our girl is a hard hater. She arrived, took one look at the doctor and began to roar. Mr. Waffle tells me that when the trauma of the examination was over he let her go and put her on the floor so that she would understand she wasn’t being held against her will.  Apparently, she promptly ran for the door.

Anyhow, you will be delighted to hear that she appears to be largely recovered. We went to the Christmas market today and had a ride on a merry go round which was most pleasing to the royal person. We also went to a crib exhibition which I thought she might like. In we tripped to the church and she promptly mortified me by roaring “Mass, no, pas mass” and grabbing on to the church door like something from the Exorcist. Apparently, she finds mass dull. Anyway, she was mildly interested in the cribs but fascinated by the styrofoam on the floor which served as fake snow. After a quick roll in the styrofoam, Mr. Waffle took her home while I went to mass (well, I was hardly going to take her). Mr. Waffle informs me that he spent some time removing strofoam pieces from up her nose on his return. The simple pleasures of parenthood.

Friar Tuck

on 12 December 2004 at 22:56

Good thing you didn’t feed Her Highness pea soup before going to the exhibition!
on 13 December 2004 at 18:29

Work’s going well? Splendid!Princess hates doctors? Can’t blame her!

Princess finds mass a bore? Can’t blame her!

Princess enjoys shoving styrofoam up her nose? Can’t bla….err….haven’t tried it myself.


on 13 December 2004 at 20:33

Bobble, how very exotic of you. FT, indeed. Locotes, you never know until you try..

Intercultural difficulties

9 December, 2004 at 10:30 pm by belgianwaffle

French is difficult for me. So many words sound the same. Roue and rue for example. See, in English that’s wheel and street and quite hard to confuse. A longish anecdote follows on this point. Try to bear with me.

The other day I was on the tram with my loving husband and bouncing toddler. There was a trendy young thing sitting beside me with one of those skiing type hats with a long tail and a pompom at the end. The Princess was rather fascinated by this and started playing with it. The trendy young thing was sweet and let her. The Princess and I have been doing quite a bit of work on tails recently (she has spent some time looking between her legs for her own tail “Mama, no tail?” “No”).  So, I said that the woman had a tail on her hat. Except, I didn’t say it in English because, you know, I wanted the trendy y.t. to understand what we were saying so I said “elle a un cul sur son chapeau”. The tyt looked a bit put out and asked whether I meant a pompom waving it about. No, I said “un cul”.  I looked at Mr. Waffle, he cleared his throat and said “I think you mean “une queue”” (difference in pronounciation only discernable to bats, dogs and fraoncophones). Smiling all round. “What” I asked my loving husband, “did I say?  “Well,” he said ” you told our baby that the lady had an ass on her hat and when she protested, you insisted that this was the case”. I see. Gosh, it’s a social minefield out there, don’t even get me started on baisser and baiser.


on 10 December 2004 at 00:17

Fish and Peach, and Cabbage and Horse, produce the same effect in Italian. All but Identical.
La mia poverina Waffly.


on 10 December 2004 at 00:47

I’m hoping to start learning Japanese in the near future, in preparation for a walking holiday there at some point. And apparently in that language, the spelling can be the same but the emphasis in pronunciation can render an entirely different meaning.
Great. So you can’t even use flash-cards as an escape route.
Maybe I should just grunt and use sign language, wherever I go. Ahh, it’ll be like being a teenager again. (Oh God.)

Friar Tuck

on 10 December 2004 at 03:51

Happens to the best of us. In my early Italian years, I wanted to tell someone that we were watching “Three Men and a Baby” (Tre uomini e una culla) on television. Instead, I said “Tre uomini e un cullo”. Hardy har har’s all around.


on 10 December 2004 at 10:24



on 10 December 2004 at 10:53

The French can be very touchy about mispronunciations in my experience. I once asked my (French) mother-in-law why everyone I spoke to in France in French answered me in English. Apparently it was because “Eet ‘urts to ze French to ‘ave some Eenglish person making zere language sound so ugly. French eet ees so beautiful and ze Eenglish zey keel eet”.


on 10 December 2004 at 11:06

Back when I was speaking Indonesian like an infant, I tried to say ‘You’re Lying’ (kamu bohong) but it came out as ‘you’re a tree’ (kamu pohon) so for years thereafter, tree was in the in-joke for liars.
The other language faux pas I made was not being able to rrrrroll my R in the word Kontrol… take out the R and it’s a word that made everyone blush. V. rude indeed! (my then husband wouldn’t even say it and he’s not known for his delicate sensibilities)oh and plenty of times I used the wrong word for ‘you’ (it’s context dependent) and made a complete prat of myself. Bit like saying ‘cheers mate’ to your mother in law the first time you meet.


on 10 December 2004 at 19:48

snap! I have a dreadful time with ‘rue’ and ‘roue’ … and don’t get me started on the minefield that is ‘barbequeue’ (barbe ? cul)


on 12 December 2004 at 22:13

Thank you one and all for your mortifying pronounciation stories/sympathy. It’s all terrifying – the Indonesian sounds most complicated though. And Bobble isn’t there some way of pronouncing Dome in Italian which makes teenagers giggle?


on 08 January 2005 at 20:43

i’m french if i can help you….salut.


on 09 January 2005 at 16:46

Margot, c’est gentil mais je crois que mes difficultes sont presque insurmontables!

Sleep tight

7 December, 2004 at 11:28 pm by belgianwaffle

I’m just back from giving her highness a bottle. Unlike every other 20 month old in the world, our baby does not sleep through the night.  At the moment she is choosing to wake up twice a night which is not as bad as last month’s thrice a night but not quite as good as September’s once a night which led us to hope that she might give it up altogether She likes to taunt us.

Anyway, now that I am back at work, we do the bottles on alternate nights. So Mr. Waffle did last night. And I heard a heartbreaking cry from her room “Mama, Mama, Mama”. And I lay there and didn’t go to her and I felt something tighten in my chest. It was really very hard. And when my loving spouse came back I said “was she ok, I heard her calling me”. And he said “oh, but she always calls for you when I go in”. And I felt terrible. So tonight Mr. Waffle is away for work and I am almost glad that I get to get up and give her her bottles. So in I went in with the bottle. She was sitting up in bed. I said “I’m here, sweetheart” and in a heartbroken voice she said “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy” Tell me, do you think she’s just playing with us?


on 08 December 2004 at 01:18

Absolutely. She knows a soft-touch when she sees one.
It’s an innate characteristic of the young and the non-male.


on 08 December 2004 at 11:22

She has a career in the media ahead I feel.


on 08 December 2004 at 11:52

Of course she is. That girl will go far.


on 08 December 2004 at 20:43

as I thought, a true princess



on 08 December 2004 at 20:45

She’s just proving who is in charge so you don’t forget.


on 09 December 2004 at 22:33

FT, yes, good comment. JD, you’re just being cynical. Bobble, Pog, quite possibly. Hmm, Lauren, I didn’t know thta they were supposed to be contrary. Beth, do you really think that’s at all likely?


on 09 December 2004 at 22:52

Cynical? Me?!


on 12 December 2004 at 22:13

My mistake, JD.

Modes of transport

7 December, 2004 at 11:01 pm by belgianwaffle

When we’re in the car, the Princess tends to chat away to herself. She likes to identify other road users and to compliment herself on her prowess in this regard.

“A vam, clever girl; car, bravo; tram, thas righ; bus, clever girl; bikikle, good girl.”

Friar Tuck

on 08 December 2004 at 17:20

Okay, Princess, here’s a picture of my car. Can you say “rust bucket”? Good girl!


on 09 December 2004 at 22:33

Thanks Norah, you are, as always, generous and kind with your sweeties. FT, yes she can.


5 December, 2004 at 9:38 pm by belgianwaffle

Belgium, as you will be aware, is famous for chocolate. And in Belgium, Pierre Marcolini is the acme of chocolate shops. And they have just opened a new shop on 3 floors at the bottom of the Sablon. And the other night, we were all out admiring the Christmas lights (“lighs, lighs, lighs!) and I thought I might check out the new establishment. And I was refused entry. It was the gala opening and entry was by invitation only. I have been refused entry to a chocolate shop. I think my social life may have reached a new low.

Friar Tuck

on 06 December 2004 at 01:00

Someday they will regret it! They will come on their knees begging you to set foot in their store. I’m sure of it.
I wonder how LJS would have handled the situation?


on 06 December 2004 at 10:35

Isn’t that illegal Waffly – I thought you had an access all areas pass to Belgium’s chocolate shops?


on 07 December 2004 at 22:45

Cold comfort Loc. FT, you are surely right and with finesse, I am sure. Bobble, yes.

Part the Thirteenth

3 December, 2004 at 10:21 pm by belgianwaffle

Bobble opened her eyes slowly. The hooded figure hovered over her but it seemed less menacing, somehow. It was also offering a cup of tea.

“I put in lots of sugar, for the shock” it said in a helpful voice.

“But, you oozed, you were a budget cutter, the Princess, LJS is coming round, Norah…”

“Now, now” said Friar Tuck kindly, for it was he, “you’ve had a bit of a shock. To be honest, we all have, Mr. Waffle was left in charge and things went a bit funny, but it’s alright now. Also, you might like to know that I’ve put on some hand cream.”

Bobble shook her head in bafflement and drank her tea. Suddenly she heard the sound of someone running up the stairs. It was Norah.

“Honestly, Bobble, you are a useless chump” she sighed in exasperation. Seeing the hooded figure she added “oh, hello Tuckers, I didn’t realise you were there, I thought you and Heather had fallen out”.

Friar Tuck drew himself up to his full height “her people and my people have been in touch and we are hammering out some kind of deal”.

“That’s nice” said Norah absently “by the by, how’s the psoriasis?”

Friar Tuck held out a scaly hand and smiled mournfully. “Well,” said Norah prosaically, “what do you expect on the NHS?”

“Anyway,” said Norah, “I can’t hang about, LJS is coming round and I have to get Waffle and Heather”.

“Oh” said Friar Tuck “so this is what this is all about” and he laughed loud and long and the sound echoed round the Schloss.  In the drawing room Heather pulled her diaphanous wrap more closely round her pretty shoulders and shivered.

***Author’s note: So this is why it was all Pam’s dream in “Dallas”. The scriptwriter went on a short holiday and found one of the main characters had been eliminated.  If you don’t get this reference, it’s not my fault that you are a mere babe in arms and too young to remember when Bobby was shot.


on 04 December 2004 at 20:08

“chump”? Ooh I’ve come over all Malory Towers! 1
Sweetie(s) given


on 04 December 2004 at 20:21

oh we’re hammering out a deal are we? I need to speak to my people.


on 05 December 2004 at 12:34

And I can just whistle in the wings or whatever while this pyrotechnical blytonesque love-in goes on? Typical. Personally I thought Mr Waffle’s contribution was the most wothwhile to date in this moving tale of hope and gory.
Not it’s gone all bloody pink and smiley again….


on 05 December 2004 at 15:08

Yes, FT, good news. Norah, well spotted, I felt a bit Enid Blytony…and a sweetie too, you are kind. HJB, well only if you want to, of course. LJS, excuse me, LJS, you’re FICTIONAL.


on 05 December 2004 at 15:10

Bobby Ewing? Pam? Oh yes, I remember my Mum telling me about that …


on 05 December 2004 at 15:13

Pog, clearly your mother was a child bride..

Friar Tuck

on 05 December 2004 at 21:32

Don’t worry Heather. Whenever there’s a deal being hammered out, I usually wind up being the nail!


on 06 December 2004 at 13:08

Of course she was waffle.


on 13 December 2004 at 20:53



3 December, 2004 at 10:03 pm by belgianwaffle

Well, we seem to be spending a lot of time in the car at the moment.  Last night on the way home (without Mr. Waffle), there was a slightly hairy moment involving two other cars, a van and a bicycle.  There was a squealing of brakes and my child was somewhat tossed about in her car seat.  “Well, that was exciting” I said to the Princess. Tonight when we drove home with Mr. Waffle, there was a similar quick stop and the Princess was again tossed in her seat (nobody is to panic, Belgian driving is like this).  She clutched her father’s arm (he was sitting in the back with her) and giggled and said “exciting!”. Mr. Waffle looked at me dubiously “why does she say that?”  “I cannot imagine” I replied while offering hush money to herself.  Though that was partly to stop her requesting that we sing ‘ingle bells’ again.


on 05 December 2004 at 11:59

Nice one…. 🙂


on 05 December 2004 at 15:07

Beth, yes, I suppose there is that. Do you know that the French for a seal is “phoque”. I leave pronounciation to your imagination.
JD, thank you..


on 05 December 2004 at 23:24

You’re a delightful influence to be sure ms. waffle. And I’m quite sure you were in no way responsible for any shaky moments on the road involving cars, vans, bicycles, elephants, and such and such.


on 06 December 2004 at 15:43

‘Phoque’? So that’s what she was saying in imperious tones ..


on 07 December 2004 at 22:46

Locotes, no, well, not really. Pog, yes, clearly…



on 03 December 2004 at 21:56

Hmm. And more this morning. And she won’t realise that Christmas is over. I could still be jingle belling in Feb.

Friar Tuck

on 03 December 2004 at 22:27

Try distracting her by singing “One hundred bottles of beer on the wall”.


on 03 December 2004 at 22:29

Aren’t you the funny one, FT? After all the trouble, I took reviving you as well.

Friar Tuck

on 04 December 2004 at 17:27

Well! I see useful suggestions are not appreciated here! And I did thank you for bringing me back from the dead, sort of.

La crise du jour

1 December, 2004 at 10:13 pm by belgianwaffle

Dropped madam off at the creche. Conversation as follows:

Me: Now sweetheart, you’re going to spend the day here. You’ll have your lunch here with M and then you’ll have your nap and your afternoon snack and then you’ll go downstairs to….

Princess (nods head in exaggerated mode): Yes, yes, yes (pushes me towards the door) …niceday Mummy (runs off to play with tricycle).

This evening however it was a different story. I came in to find a tearful girl. M held up the Princess’s bunny “la crise du jour Op-op a perdu son oreille”. The Princess looked anxiously at M “Op-op, oreille” then she turned to me and explained carefully “Hop-hop, ear” but I had already grasped the nature of the tragedy and this evening after my baby went to bed I sat in front of the telly and sewed Hop-hop’s ear back on. I am a supermother.

Friar Tuck

on 02 December 2004 at 00:39

Wow! Had heard rumors of such creatures, but never thought they actually existed. My hope for the human race is renewed.


on 02 December 2004 at 12:41

Aw bless – the Princess is translating for you ……


on 02 December 2004 at 21:50

Thanks, Bobble, Pog. FT,less of it.

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