Me: It was International Women’s Day last Friday.
Her: I know and I still can’t vote.
Me: Well, that’s not because you’re a woman, it’s because you’re 9.
Her: Indignant silence [yes, she conveys indignation with her eyebrows].
Princess
Faustian Pact
The Princess is to be in another television programme. Her class are to be filmed a couple of times and she was very excited. I had to sign a release form for her. I came home shortly afterwards and she said, “I read the release form. They can do anything they like with my image. They own everything I have no rights.” “That’s right,” I said, “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to do it.” “Of course, I want to do it, I’m going to be on television!”
The actual experience of television was very boring. They had to do lots of re-takes. The crew brought out some worms to show the children (the programme is about gardening, I understand). This was a highlight and they were all fascinated. But this was not the correct reaction. All the girls had to scream; the boys did not have to scream. So they redid the worm introduction until the girls screamed loudly enough. “Which was very sexist,” said she. That’s my girl.
School of Hard Knocks
Herself: Do you know what T (the childminder) says when we hurt ourselves?
Me: No.
Her: La douleur passe.
I suppose it is the equivalent of “It’ll be better before you’re twice married” which is what we used to get.
Big in Japan
The Princess has ended up with a bit part in a Japanese documentary about Francis Bacon. I understand that she will be listening in rapt silence with a group of other children from her school while someone from the Hugh Lane Gallery explains his importance. We’re going to get a copy of the DVD. I know, you’re on the edge of your seat out there. You’re also humming that Alphaville song.
Not Very Free Range Children
We went to the Natural History Museum which is a small museum where the children have been a couple of times before. At the door, I said, “You can go where you want inside the museum, but don’t go outside. If you need me, I will go to the book corner when I have finished looking around.”
The Princess pushed her brothers forward, “Go on, let’s enjoy our small slice of freedom pie.”
Project Work
The boys were recently assigned their first school project. Each child had to pick an Irish county to write about. Daniel, still fascinated by the Battle of the Boyne, picked Meath. He did some research on his chosen county. He wrote about the Hill of Tara and the stone of destiny at the top.
“You know,” I said, “I’ve never been up the Hill of Tara, we should go this weekend.” Whereupon the Princess moaned with acute, though deplorable, insight, “Don’t make us, it will be a long walk up a hill in the rain and when we get there the stone will be titchy.” I know that this is true but I am still going to make them do it; if only the weather would improve just a little bit. I have a new Portuguese colleague at work and she is in daily astonishment at the awful weather and refuses to believe that it could be worse in Cork but it is. I digress.
Michael meanwhile chose to do his project on Cork. “Why did you choose Cork?” I asked beaming with pride. “Because there was nothing else left and I knew you would know lots about it.” My pragmatic though not notably tactful child. One of the things he stuck to the chart was a picture of UCC the university in Cork with which my family has a long association. On the front he had written, “Lift the flap to find a fact.” Underneath was written “This is a college, it is called DCU.” [Spelling corrected for your benefit. Michael’s spelling continues to be idiosyncratic.] DCU is a local university in Dublin. As I squealed in horror, a part of me took off my hat to DCU’s outreach programme which is manifestly building excellent brand recognition among local school children.
That is all. The projects have now been submitted and are gracing the wall of 2nd class.