The Princess loves Hodge.
She spends her time poking Hodge in the eye and putting her hand, daringly, in the cat’s mouth.
When she is not carrying her around.
I tell her to put the cat down and leave her alone. But, surprisingly, the cat sticks to her like a limpet.
Still, Hodge sometimes likes to get a good tree between her and us.
Also she sleeps with a gun under her pillow, just in case.
Incidentally, did I mention that Mr. Waffle finds himself speaking in French to the cat which is hilarious.
Princess
Feeling Sentimental
Since the afternoon driving home from work when I had the slash and burn budget on RTE radio 1, child abuse on Today FM, general economic doom and gloom on Newstalk and yet more cricket on Radio 4, I have, increasingly been listening to Christmas FM. The clue is in the title, they play Christmas music interspersed with DJ chatter – it’s manned by volunteers and all profits go to a homeless charity. I have learnt that there are an awful lot of dreadful Christmas tunes, I like the Enya Christmas song (I know) and even “Fairytale of New York” will pall eventually. My children now believe that Wham’s “Last Christmas” is as much part of the seasonal canon as “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” and, who knows, perhaps they are right. You haven’t lived until you have heard three small children singing about how this year they will be giving their hearts “to someone especial, especial..”
One afternoon while in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher I heard an unappealing Christmas ditty about my “grown-up Christmas list”. The singer was hoping that Santa would bring her world peace. I found myself thinking idly along the following lines: that is so stupid, Santa doesn’t even come to grown-ups and, of course, children won’t ask for world peace, selfish little blighters. Then I stopped and reflected that even if our children DID ask for world peace, it might be a difficult one to deliver. Does this mean that deep down I still believe in Santa Claus?
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
Small world
Jordana’s daughter in the frozen north made a joke as they were putting her to bed the other night. This struck me because the Princess told me exactly the same joke at the same time. I blame Hannah Montana.
Christmas Build-up
We put up the Christmas tree on Saturday afternoon. The children were delighted On Sunday morning at 6.45, the Princess arrived into our room fully dressed asking to go downstairs and look at the Christmas tree lights. I shudder to think what time she will rise at on the 25th.
Cross-cultural confusion
Michael: Christmas is Jesus’s birthday.
Me: Yes, that’s right.
Michael begins to cry.
Me: What’s wrong?
Michael: That means Jesus gets all the presents.
Me: No, no, the baby Jesus loves us all so much that he wants all the children to have presents.
Princess: And Santa delivers the presents with help from his brother Saint Nicolas and his sister the Befana.
Call the tabloids
Me: Does anybody know who Barack Obama is?
Her: Yes, let me think, yes, he is the President of the United States.
Me: Very good.
Daniel: I’ve seen him.
Me: Really?
Daniel: Yes.
Me: Where?
Daniel: Outside my window.
Me: Oh yes?
Daniel: Oh yes, and he was naked.
And here’s a nice link for those who love Dr. Seuss.
And for the cat owners with children, keep the children away from the hole punch or your cat may end up like this.