belgianwaffle

Princess

Principles, What Principles?


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess

The Princess has been at home sick for three days.  She’s going back to school tomorrow.  Rejoice.  I’m exhausted.  You know that Mr. Waffle and I are somewhat proud that the Princess doesn’t watch any television?  After two days at home alone with my three children, I rang Mr. Waffle and asked him to stop off at the video shop on the way home and, for God’s sake, pick up something for the Princess.  Hotfoot upon pride comes Nemesis the avenger.  Yeah, she’s on her way up from the school now to taunt me.

Comments

poggleon 02 February 2006 at 14:04

Is that the little girl you met the other day? Nemesis the Avenger, I mean? 0
Sweetie(s) given

kristin(Homepage)

on 02 February 2006 at 17:20

on a recent preschool application form i was requested to note how much television the child watched per day, as well as what kind. it was with great remorse that i wrote ‘disney videos.’
we’ve got a cold here, too. i’m ready to feed her to the wolves.

Minkleberryon 02 February 2006 at 17:23

you’re better parents than us. The wiggles save my sanity for half an hour every day, and probably every 3 hours when I have to feed Seth once Jimi goes back to work!

KateEvanson 02 February 2006 at 20:44

My little one loves to watch television and I encourage it so I can drink cocktails get supper ready, etc. But only normal drama, news, films etc. I don’t want her watching any of that children’s muck. I wonder how long I can keep her ignorant of the wonderful world of teletubbies.

belgianwaffleon 04 February 2006 at 10:24

Mike, quite. Kristin, oh dear, I know PRECISELY how you feel.
Minkleberry, you are a far better parent than I will ever be, you are at home, with two children all the time and an oozing wound to boot and you only watch half an hour’s telly a day. You are my hero.
Kate, you have no oozing wound, you’re clearly just a dreadful parent.

Standards


Posted in: Princess

Princess: A freshly squeezed orange juice.
We put in our order and wait and wait.
Me: Where is that waitress with our order?
Princess: She’s coming, patience Mummy.
Waitress arrives.
Princess: See, I was right.
Me: Yes dear, how is your orange juice?
She continues sipping and turns her chubby hand from side to side in mid air (meaning medium).
Me: What’s wrong with it?
Her (sotto voce): I don’t think it’s freshly squeezed, Mummy.
I tried it, it wasn’t.

Comments
Friar Tuckon 31 January 2006 at 16:49

Well, it had to be freshly squeezed at some point in time. Did you specify that you wanted it freshly squeezed today? ���

belgianwaffleon 04 February 2006 at 10:17

Mike, you are entering into the spirit of the thing, FT you are not. And as an American, I would expect you to care about service standards. You spent too long in Rome.

Customer Service


Posted in: Belgium, Princess

It was just as well that Sunday’s outing passed off peacefully because on Saturday we had an absolutely hideous trip to a tea shop.  We all went out and bought the Princess a new anorak. We bought a ski jacket on the basis that it would be warm and maybe we might all go skiing next year (oh stop sniggering). It is pink.  After one afternoon’s wear, it was filthy. An excellent investment, clearly.

After the success of the anorak, we decided to go for tea and a bun. A dreadful mistake, we went to this place on Rue du Bailli where the food and decor are lovely and the staff are vile.  And really, that’s ok, if it’s just two adults, but two adults and three small children? It’s a disaster. Mr. Waffle (with Michael strapped to him on the sling) and the Princess
ascended the steep stairs (which I had forgotten) to the tea
room. I tried and failed to get Daniel up the steps in the
buggy.  The woman from behind the counter gave a deep sigh and marched around, I assusmed to help me, but no to bang shut the door I had left ajar. I concede that it was freezing, but I was distracted. Another staff member came and told me that the buggy was in the way. I tried despairingly to get up the steps again, but they were just too steep. Mr. Waffle came down to help me (Michael still in sling) leaving the Princess precariously sitting on a chair minding a table. The staff snorted as we, relatively briefly, blocked the staircase. We all sat down. The boys were as good as gold, as was the Princess.  The staff continued nasty, they disliked our paraphenalia. It’s hard to blame them, I suppose, but they were so rude and unpleasant, that I was more than willing to try. I ordered a milk shake and asked for a small glass so that I could pour some of it in there for the Princess. “We have no small glasses”. “Well, maybe a mug.” More snorting.  The waitress decided that she would ignore that particular bizarre request. Lovely.  I think that you will get the flavour of the unpleasant spirit that animates the establishment when I
tell you that on their blackboard, they had emblazoned in large letters “No second spoons with ice cream/deserts”. It was all a bit grim but our little Princess sat smiling, eating her ice cream and saying to her frazzled parents “We’re having a lovely time, aren’t we?”

Comments
Divaon 30 January 2006 at 22:08

Good Lord, how mean about the spoons! Little princess made me smile with her innocent comment about the lovely time, bless her heart, she obviously enjoyed it and will remember it with a smile and a warm feeling :o)

UndercoverCookieon 31 January 2006 at 10:14

maybe you’d have to ask for a second fork? Or perhaps romantic couples could just eat the ice cream off each other. There are always ways around these rules.

poggleon 31 January 2006 at 12:19

I bet The Princess was taking notes for future reference – and revenge.
And Mrs Affable – gah. Still, at least it wasn’t a drumkit, ay?

cha0ticon 31 January 2006 at 19:50

Retaliate. Penny whistle for Mrs Affables child 🙂

Daddy’sLittleDemonon 01 February 2006 at 13:39

Jesus, that’s so Belgian

belgianwaffleon 04 February 2006 at 10:21

NS, I know. Diva, you’re a big softy. UC, this relationship is doing all kinds of odd things to you. Pog, I certainly hope so. Cha0ic, she’s expecting twins in May, I’m holding my fire for when she’s at her weakest. DLD, to be fair, this has not been my experience elsewhere.

Divaon 05 February 2006 at 17:06

If she’s anything like I was at her age, little memories like that will still make her smile when she’s a big ol’ hard backed woman of 36 ;o) And yes, I know, I AM a big old softy! LOL!

Bobbleon 05 February 2006 at 23:54

It’s the law, you must get second spoons. Staff like that must be made to a summer at Camp America, oh yes.

It’s gym, but not as we know it


Posted in: Princess

In other news, the Princess skipped off early to school today for gym (or pyschomotricité as it is known in the language of diplomacy and romance, you might note that it may not be spelt that way). She has no idea what it is, but she is all excited, I hope that she is not in for a bitter disappointment.

Peggy
(Homepage)
on 26 January 2006 at 09:49
Bet the plumber was hoping you’d still be in bed… breastfeeding one or two babies.
Ok, I’m out of here.

Friar Tuck
on 26 January 2006 at 16:23
Maybe you could give the plumber one of yours as payment. After all, you could always make another. A win-win situation if there ever was one.

kristin
(Homepage)
on 26 January 2006 at 19:37
but tell us about the new fridge! is it nice? and pyschomotricite indeed. good lord. quite a step up from Circle Time.

belgianwaffle
on 27 January 2006 at 09:12

Hello CACOchyme, encore un Belge, the excitement. In fact, I was very pleased with the plumber and frankly half an hour late isn’t really very late but he did cost me, sharp intake of breath, 142 euros.
Peggy, hmmm, you go and stand with pog in the coin colere.
FT, would have been insufficient to defray substantial costs.
Oh yes, Kristin, no circle time for us, humph. Fridge is fab and much bigger than last one. Mr. W. says it’s just a fridge. Pah.


Posted in: Princess

Madam’s teacher told me that she (the Princess) was a genius and miles
ahead of the other children (see, proof that hothousing works) and that
really she should go to the next class up but she wasn’t quite mature
enough.� However, she suggested that our immature genius should
spend a morning a week in the next class up and I basked in her
reflected glory.

When we got out the snow had, alas, got heavier.� The Princess was
beside herself with delight and ran around sticking out her tongue to
catch snowflakes.� While normally I would be charmed by this
behaviour, I was anxious to get home quickly before Michael got
hypothermia (Daniel was safely wrapped in blankets and a rain sheet in
the buggy).� I harried her along with middling success.�
About half way home she said “Mummy, I want to do a wee”.� “Can
you wait until we get home?”� Really I don’t know why I bothered
to ask.� Of course not.� We crouched down between two cars,
exposing the imperial bottom to the snow and also wetting the hem of
the imperial trousers, but better than the alternative, I
suppose.� Unfortunately, while crouching, I crushed Michael’s legs
(you will recall that he was in the sling) and he did not like this and
proceeded to bellow in indignation all the rest of the way home.�
The Princess blithely� ignored his protests and dawdled along.

By the time we finally got into the building, Michael had worked
himself into a state of near apoplexy.�� I put saintly,
sleeping Daniel in the lift and turned to the Princess and asked her to
get in.� I could barely hear her reply above Michael’s indignant
roars but I gathered from her hunched shoulders and the fact that she
was still sitting on the stairs that it was in the negative. �
Apparently she wanted to walk up the stairs.� I pointed out that I
could neither carry both boys up the stairs nor abandon them in the
hall.� “I bet you can” she said sulkily.� A protracted
negotiation session followed, Michael bawling the while and eventually
she consented to get into the lift.

At lunch she tasted and then rejected the following foods:� smoked
salmon, chicken, foie gras (stocks replenished and I know it’s
sub-optimal for the under 3s but I was desperate).� She eventually
consented to have “a little pasta with olive oil, Mummy”� and has
finally just gone for her nap.� Daniel still sleeps and Michael is
attached to me as I type but mercifully looking somnolent.� I
think that I will have a restorative cup of tea.

Comments
chintzybling

on 25 January 2006 at 14:03

You are a hero. And I’m slightly scared of the Princess’ wisdom. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���

dmts

on 25 January 2006 at 14:25

Would you like to adopt me because I’d love a little bit of foie gras or smoked salmon for lunch. I promise to get in the lift and not to pee in the street. 1
Sweetie(s) given ���

kristin

(Homepage)

on 25 January 2006 at 15:22

Oh dear, Waffley, have i told you recently how much i adore you? and the terribly clever princess, as well, of course. and the boys, crushed legs and all. Good luck achieving that cup of tea before another country is heard from. ���

poggle

on 26 January 2006 at 14:23

Careful. H is going to pee in the lift. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���

belgianwaffle

on 27 January 2006 at 09:10

You are kind newshoes and 2 sweeties to boot.
Aw, thanks Chintzy, you’d be even more scared of her, if you saw her dancing on the bed.
HJB, I’m tempted, and, no, pog, I’m sure she won’t pee in the lift, look she gave me a sweetie, nice Heather.
Kristin, ooh, it’s great to be popular on line if not in line at the school gates. Ta. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���

Bobble

on 05 February 2006 at 23:59

Marvellous. It makes me appreciate my last years of having no children all the more. You rock. 0
Sweetie(s) given ���

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An Introduction to Social Injustice


Posted in: Princess

When we were down town, we saw a woman and her daughter begging. The Princess wanted to know why they were sitting on the pavement and I said that they were poor and begging for money. I explained that not everybody was as lucky as us with a nice house and plenty of food to eat and nice clothes and toys. The Princess was fascinated. On the tram on the way home, she kept pointing at people and saying, very distinctly (and accurately), ““I think he’Â’s poor Mummy”.” Then she said to me, ““Mummy, you know, there are a lot of poor people at my school”. I
see social death approaching.

Mind you, it’Â’s not like I’Â’ve made friends with a lot of the mothers and fathers. I keep smiling in a hopeful way but they keep ignoring me. Yesterday, this woman was collecting her daughter who is in the PrincessÂ’s class. She has twin boys! Who are four months old! What a coincidence, would you like to chat about all the things we and our daughters have in common? Apparently not. She cut me dead and continued talking to her friends. I was crushed and reduced to thinking bad things about her poor dental work. Also she made having twins and a toddler look very easy and we all know that it is extremely difficult and I am fantastic to be
coping so well. Humph.

Comments

geepeemum

on 25 January 2006 at 11:53
She was probably being rude because she looks at you and wonders how she could ever in her wildest dreams cope as well as you do; clearly you make her feel inferior! (As indeed you should, given that she is a very rude lady)
Sweetie(s) given

Peggy

(Homepage)

on 25 January 2006 at 12:53
I agree with Geepeemum. And she might also think that you are another one of those rich expats.
Most important is that the Princess makes friends in her school.

jackdalton

on 25 January 2006 at 12:54
Don’t be crushed, ‘waf. People who do that sort of thing eventuually get what’s due…. silly old billy old cow.
[Her. Not you.]
Sweetie(s) given

belgianwaffle

on 27 January 2006 at 09:06
Pog, am sure you are right. Oooh, I like that GPM. Peggy, rich expats are people too. Sniff. Still no friends though. I suppose it has only been a fortnight.
JD, am glad you clarified that. 0
Sweetie(s) given