belgianwaffle

Princess

Weekend


Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Our weekends are logistically challenging at the moment. Daniel has a match on Saturday mornings, usually in a distant location and Michael has a course in town from 1.15 to 2.45. Herself has a course, on the other side of town from 12.15 to 2.15.

A couple of weekends ago was not untypical. Daniel had a match in Howth which is brutally awkward to get to. Mr. Waffle took Dan and the neighbour’s child out to the GAA club. The pitch is on a high outcrop overlooking the sea which, as Mr. Waffle pointed out must be beautiful on a warm summer’s day but on a sleety, freezing day in February, it was nothing to write home about. Our neighbour’s child is very slender and quite fragile looking (though handy at gaelic games despite appearances to the contrary). He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt when he turned up at our house. “Would he like a tracksuit?” we wondered. No he would not as he had underarmour and he pulled it down to mid-thigh as he spoke. Frankly, we didn’t feel it would cut the mustard. When they got to Howth, the neighbour’s child went in goal. Sadly, our team was being flattened* and he was very busy in goal. So busy in fact that even though he now conceded that he would quite like to put on the tracksuit bottoms, there wasn’t a moment’s quiet form him to do so. Eventually, he got a knock to the head and had to come off which may have been a mercy. Mr. Waffle took the visibly shivering child into the club house and got him into the tracksuit and plied him with hot chocolate and crisps and he seems to have been no worse for the experience.

Meanwhile back in the city, I was looking out glumly at the rain. The Princess was getting the bus into town and wasn’t quite sure where her venue was. I volunteered to go with her leaving Michael home alone. She and I got the bus in together and then I went to get the bus home but due to extensive works on the new city centre tram line was utterly unable to find the bus stop for the return leg for a surprising length of time. I was consequently both late and very damp when I got home to pick up Michael. We rushed into our rain gear and cycled into his course. Then I cycled off to her course and showed her where the bus stop had moved to, put her on the bus, cycled back to Michael’s course, cycled home with him, peeled off my damp clothes and stayed at home for the rest of the day a shadow of my former self.

If I had known in my 20s what was coming, I would have enjoyed those long, relaxed weekend brunches even more.

*Daniel got man of the match as he is a child who does not give up even under the most daunting of circumstances. I was pleased for him, it was all that could be salvaged from a rather grim experience overall.

Parent Teacher Meetings


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

We have been doing the rounds of parent-teacher meetings. This is the boys’ last year in primary school and I am quite sad to end our link to the primary school. Their teacher this year is amazing. They love her. And she seems to really like them as well. She had lovely things to say when we met her and all is definitely well.

Secondary school parent teacher meetings are a different kettle of fish. There are about ten different teachers to see and much queuing up outside classrooms. Due to ASTI’s (teacher union’s) ongoing industrial dispute, I had to take a half day off from work to queue as well – parent-teacher meetings can no longer be scheduled for the evening as part of the work to rule. In fairness to my first born, she is well-loved by teachers and, overwhelmingly, they had good things to say though, due to the queue of other parents outside the door, it was all pretty brief. The focus of all teachers was on how she was likely to do in the Junior Certificate (a State examination at the end of next year which is only relevant as a qualification if you plan to leave school at 16 and, frankly, if you do leave school at that stage, how you did in your Junior Certificate is likely to be the least of your worries). This drives me bananas. Even the really good teachers felt obliged to explain how what they were doing was important for the examination and less inspired ones revealed without a blush that they had the kids memorising essays. I know that this isn’t a new problem, but still Pádraig Pearse must be turning in his grave.

Terrible Jokes Department – Part II


Posted in: Princess

Herself: Suppose there was a census and it was all fake. Like “fake news”!
Me: Mmm.
Her: And everyone agreed that it was fake.
Me: OK and?
Her: It would be – wait for it – a consensus.

Terrible Jokes Department


Posted in: Princess

Herself: Did you hear about the punctuation mark that lost both parents?
Me: No.
Herself: It needed someone to act in loco parenthesis.
Me: Aargh.
Herself: I made it up myself.

Deep Waters


Posted in: Princess

Herself, on being forced to go to mass on Sunday, announced, “I’m an atheist martyr.” It takes a saint to live with a martyr, you know. As part of her campaign to not go to mass any longer she is asking me hard questions. I am dealing with issues that I never really considered myself and where I have no answers. In the context of the Arian heresy (obscure, but not as obscure as you might think because every Sunday when we recite the Nicene creed we refer to Jesus as being “consubstantial with the Father” which I understand is the essence of the controversy. A former colleague of mine used to refer to the creed as “the best mission statement ever”; I digress), she asked me whether the Holy Spirit has chromosomes. On balance, I’m inclined to think not, but really, this is all getting a bit beyond me.

And as though all this wasn’t enough, the sacristan nabbed me at mass on Sunday and asked whether I would like to be part of the parish’s outreach team for baptisms. One evening a month only, apparently. I fear I will have to commit as I have already avoided all kinds of things including organising tea after the family mass once a month. I will offer it up, I suppose. There will be training available, I understand. I hope they will cover all the relevant theological questions which are likely to arise.

Ominous


Posted in: Hodge, Mr. Waffle, Princess

When I checked my personal mobile as I left the office this evening, I saw that herself had called me at 2. I rang her back. “Oh yeah, it was an emergency when I called you. The cat caught a mouse and brought it into the utility room.” “What happened?” I asked. “I shut the door and called Dad and he’s going to deal with it when he gets home.” Cravenly, I cycled home very slowly. Mr. Waffle opened the front door to me. “Did you find the mouse?” I asked. He had not. We both looked again but could find no trace. Could the cat have eaten it all, including the tail? She is certainly less hungry than usual this evening. Alternatively are there mouse body parts quietly rotting in an unseen corner of the utility room? It’s all to play for, folks.