Herself and her friend A were running across the road to the bus stop. She says it is hair raising (mental note, must investigate this on google maps) and as they got to the other side, she said to A, perhaps not entirely seriously, “I am just going to say a prayer thanking God for delivering us safely to the other side of the road.” A (who has to my knowledge made her communion and confirmation and attended exclusively catholic schools) said, “Say a prayer? You can’t do that, you’re not an exorcist.” Herself asks, “What do you think people do in churches, A?” A replies, “Are they all praying like, like…” “Like Catholics,” herself cuts across. “Do they sprinkle each other with holy water while they are praying?” asked A with interest.
Princess
A Tooth Fairy’s Lot is Not a Happy One
Herself lost a tooth yesterday. Who knew children kept losing baby teeth for so long? This morning she came into us to announce that the tooth fairy had not come. “Perhaps he will come today,” I said. She looked at Mr. Waffle with a sapient eye as he dragged himself out of bed and said, “I think the tooth fairy is trudging to his work, even now.”
I got this email from her during the day.
From: Herself
To: Me
Re: Don’t go getting ideas.This is blatantly unacceptable.
Does there come a time where one is just a smidgen too sophisticated for the tooth fairy?
Little Disagreement
Last night the Princess asked me whether I was a Jo and Laurie person or an Amy and Laurie person. If you have not read “Little Women“, you may move on now. Anyhow, I said that I was a Jo and Laurie person, like everybody except, perhaps, Louisa May Alcott. Of course, the Princess is an Amy and Laurie person. Internet, might I ask you, what kind of person are you?
Can I tell you that you are on your first warning having given the WRONG answer on the piano question.
Pedants’ Corner or How We Amuse Ourselves at Breakfast
From: Herself
To: Me
Re: Girls’ and women’s
Sent: 07:51 (14 hours ago)When your last hope for humanity is the cereal box.
I think herself is concerned that she may be one of the only people now living who is familiar with the correct use of the apostrophe.
Also, does everyone else read food packaging labels when there is nothing else available? I think it is hereditary; my father still knows off by heart all the labels which graced his parents’ table in the 20s and 30s.
Last Sunday of the Liturgical Year
I woke up this morning feeling miserable. I felt progressively worse as I had my shower and ate a solitary slice of toast for breakfast. I crawled back into bed at 10.15 with a hot water bottle and wet hair (too ill to dry with hair dryer, yes, I know what you’re thinking) only briefly rising again to stand over the toilet feeling like I was going to be sick. I was convinced that I had flu. I’ve had it once before and I was very afraid.
I woke up again at 2.30 feeling largely fine. A bit of a headache and haven’t had anything to eat yet but I am dressed and walking around and my legs no longer feel wobbly. A mystery. My hair leaves a bit to be desired though.
Anyhow, as well as being the last Sunday of the liturgical year it is also what our Church of Ireland friends call Stir Up Sunday, (who knew that this was going to be an ecumenical post?). Showing positively Protestant levels of organisation, I had left lots of fruit soaking last night in stout and brandy. I went and bought new pudding bowls yesterday as, by some bizarre process they always disappear from one year to the next (or, at the very least, the lids do). I was therefore, this afternoon able to tip in the remaining ingredients all of which I had acquired earlier (chopped hazelnuts – yes, ground almonds – yes, chopped walnuts – yes etc). I was totally on a roll and filled with smugness until I got to juice and rind of an orange. I mean, really, we always have oranges, there was no need to get them in. But, oh no, not today. The Princess and I went out to the corner shop and as far as she is concerned, it was a total win as she got chocolate to melt for her chocolate moustache mould (every house should have one).
So my plum puddings are made and now all that remains to do is steam them for a fortnight. This is hard won experience over my five year plum pudding making period; there was a time when I thought two and a half hours would do it. Hah. I am genuinely expecting to be steaming these puddings all evening for at least a week.
New Terminology
Me: How did the science test go today?
Her: OK, I think, I did some intensive short term memory file saving in advance.
Me: Is that what we used to call cramming?