This evening I hauled out one of the Princess’s toys and started playing with it and she said to me “NO, Mama, NO.”
“What’s wrong darling?”� “For looking at Mummy not for touching, it might break”.
Princess
Never offer unwanted advice
You will remember my various ailments. Well, despite these, my loving daughter decided that all day yesterday as we trudged around airports only I could carry her. Would she like to go on Daddy’s shoulders? No. Would she care to walk? No. Would she fancy venturing into the royal buggy? You must be joking. So I carted her round all day because I am sap. When we finally arrived in Brussels, exhausted,10 hours
after leaving my parents’ home in Cork, I put her into the buggy to go from the plane to passport control. A distance of one short travelator. She went bananas. She roared blue murder. When we arrived at passport control. The woman behind the desk wagged her finger at me reproachfully and said “you must pick her up, you know, you can’t let her cry like that”.
VERY
Pipes, scans, fame
So, other news from the Waffles. They are replacing the lead
water pipes on the street. This is particularly good news for
those of us who choose to drink the tap water in Belgium.
On the minus side, they begin digging outside our bedroom window at 7.00 and tend to cut off the water at random intervals during the day. This is scheduled to continue for a couple of months.
Today the Princess is being taken for a scan. She won’t like
that. It’s at lunchtime and she can’t eat for three hours
beforehand. She won’t like that either. I am nervous and I
can’t feel that this counts as “taking it easy”. Sniff.
I missed a major opportunity for fame. A friend is a journalist
on a magazine here and he asked would I be prepared to talk about my blog for an article on Belgian blogging. “Oh yes, new readers” I salivated but alas due to constant meetings at work (ref para 1), I missed the all important interview slot and didn’t make the article. Am gutted.
on 22 March 2005 at 11:23
Can I have your autograph?
And good luck with Princess/scans and lazing about …..
on 22 March 2005 at 13:51
I am Belgian and I read you regularly. Feel better?
Too many readers destroy the pleasure. You’ll feel like you shouldn’t disappoint people and it won’t be natural anymore.
If you agree I’ll link you on my blog, I’m far from famous but that should attract more “francophone” readers for you.
on 22 March 2005 at 18:02
The cure for what ails you, and as luck would have it, the way to increase readership is to floss more often. Oh, sorry!
(Homepage)
on 23 March 2005 at 03:03
You will be missed.
Best wishes to you on your road to recovery!
on 23 March 2005 at 10:18
Jack, do you think, I dunno, I think fame would have suited me. Pog, join the orderly queue. Peggy, je suis tres contente, moi aussi je ferais un lien vers ton site! FT less of it from you. Tried to mail you a number of times but looks like your email is down. Speak to Messrs Peak Peak. FP, you mistake, I am promising more blog now that I am taking it easy, not less!
Tchoup, Tchoup
T’choupi is the world’s most boring mole. Our infant daughter loves him. They have a T’choupi book at the creche and she had to be wrenched away from it kicking and screaming. Mr. Waffle decided we needed to lay in T’choupi resources of our own and went to the bookshop this weekend to stock up. He couldn’t see any T’choupi stuff on the shelves, so he asked a bored assistant whether he was familiar with T’choupi the mole. “No, can’t say I’ve heard of him….unless you mean T’choupi the famous mole?” and he led Mr. Waffle round a corner to a shrine dedicated to T’choupi. Bingo.
Meanwhile the Princess and I were visiting the Glam Potter and little L. It will come as no surprise to learn that L has her own T’choupi volume and the two girls sat on the floor tugging at it and screaming “T’choupi, T’choupi” until I came and separated the combatants and escorted herself, kicking and screaming (T’choupi) to the car.
What with one thing and another, “T’choupi” was my book of choice for mass this
morning. We were somewhat mortified as we went through the mole’s adventures sotto voce to see that the child next to us had a range of religious books which he was carefully perusing. Came home and related our discomfiture to Mr. Waffle. “And” I said “one of the books was called ‘Je vous salue Marie'”. “Yes?”. “But don’t you tutoyer God along with parents, friends and pets?” “Oh yes but you vousvoyer Mary”. Dear Lord will the mysteries of French never cease to baffle me?
Early promise
The other morning the Princess was having her porridge and playing with her letters. We put them all into their slots but, horror, the z was missing. “Mummy, mummy, missing z!” “Well, never mind, sweetie, it’ll turn up.” Sad shake of the royal head “Z lost mummy, find the z mummy.” Off we went, z-less, to the creche and work respectively and, on our return home the Princess skipped off to her toys. Almost immediately she ran over to me shrieking in delight “Mummy, I find the missing z” and waving the lost z enthusiastically. Our genius.
“You haven’t had a blog entry since 23 February. Is all ok. Not like you. Your
public is v. disappointed.”I feel loved!
Do you think the princess stole the letter Z from the creche? No…I’m sorry – I shouldn’t apply my dirty low-down standards to other peoples’ children.
Round-up
Sitting in the back of the car with her menagerie, the Princess picks up a soft toy and holds it up to the window “Look, Sheepsie, a blue van”. Anxious to ensure fairness in all things, she then picks up a bear and presses its little nose to the window “Oh, Isabelle, a tram, look, look”. Finally, she waves doggy in the direction of the window “Doggy, see, lots of cars”
This email from a friend:
Thought of you the other day when reading about Noel Coward – he met a friend at a party – “we don’t have time to talk about each of us so we’ll just talk about me”
My parents’ heating has died. They have been cold for a week. It is snowing in Cork. Four men have already shaken their heads at
the parental boiler. They’re getting a blow heater and a draft proof front door tomorrow.
on 25 February 2005 at 17:11
No problem there on equality and distributed love!
Your friend is cruel.
Poor parents. A heating system that doesn’t is among life’s greatest find something to kick incentives.
on 05 March 2005 at 15:03
Well, pog, she has time.
JD, well, yes, cruel but not, I confess, entirely inaccurate.