belgianwaffle

Princess

I’ve never written a poem before. Can you tell?


Posted in: Princess

Ecole Maternelle 2006-2008

Monsieur Marion,

Dernier de rang,

Portail, sonnette,

Bicyclette.

Madame Marie

Classe d’accueil.

Valérie, Tatienne

Première maternelle.

Madame Christine,

Dans la classe,

Chaise jaune, Matthias,

Etiquettes, Pinces à linge, Tablier, Plumier,

Farde (de communication),

Cartable.

Fancy fair, école en fête,

Quand est-ce que la pluie s’arrête?

Madame Martine,

Boîte à tartines,

Dans le bac,

Sur le crochet,

Bobo,

Repas chaud,

Garderie,

DVD.

Madame Bénédicte, Dany,

Chausseurs de gym.

Madame Sylvia,

Sous le préau,

Cours de récré,

Hasta luego,

Larmes, bisous,

Twinkle, twinkle n’y sera plus.

Only rhymes and scans in parts.  Very modern, no?  Alternatively, it could be a list of vocabulary.  Extremely modern.

Busy Day


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

The Princess completed her education in Belgium today and I felt quite sad as I walked her to and from school.  She was unmoved.

I took the three children as well as the childminder and her two children (it seemed like a good idea at the time) to the ophthalmologist this afternoon.  We spent an hour and a half there.  Truly, these are times that try men’s souls.  The Princess was excruciatingly badly behaved.   The only crumb of comfort was that both she and her brothers were very well behaved during their longish examinations and didn’t whine about the eye drops which appeared unpleasant.

I noted, by the simple expedient of nosily peering over the doctor’s shoulder as she typed up my children’s results, that the beautifully dressed and charmingly behaved boy who was waiting patiently for his appointment, shared a surname with the woman who will one day be queen of Belgium.  I later pointed this out to the Princess and followed up with the rider that this was, effectively, her first chance to impress a Prince and it had been an abject failure.  I further told her that I did not think that a real Princess would insist on lying (with her brothers) on the waiting room floor with her feet in the air showing off her stripy underpants.  I know what you are thinking; sarky comments of this nature are unwelcome.

On the eye front, the Princess and Michael have identical optic nerves (who knew you could tell); the Princess very deftly manoeuvered letters to reflect those on the screen; Michael mortified me by not knowing what an apple was or any of his colours (“I dunno”) but Daniel redeemed my reputation.  The Princess and Michael, as well as their identical optic nerves, share perfect eyesight.   This was the good news.  Unfortunately, poor Daniel’s eyesight is not improving.  We have been given a prescription for stronger glasses and he may yet have to have an operation.  We will have a long note to take to someone in Dublin.  I imagine we will have to translate it first.

Trilingual


Posted in: Belgium, Ireland, Princess

The Princess is terrified of going to her Irish language school in September.  She is excited about moving to Ireland, being closer to her relatives and having a house with a garden but the prospect of school is hanging over her like a dark cloud.  Any conversation about moving to Ireland ends with her in tears saying she can’t speak any Irish.

We have begun introducing her to the odd Irish word, though, unfortunately, this isn’t fooling her into thinking that she has an excellent command of the language.   I think that it will be easier for her to pick up Irish because she already speaks two languages but I’m not the one who will have to face a classroom of strangers and interact with them in a foreign language.   When not in the company of her parents, the Princess is, I think, a great conformist and she is concerned that she won’t be able to follow the teacher’s instructions.  However, she can now say “ciúnas!” with great authority.  I have emphasised that this will stand her in good stead as my memory of primary school is that this was the command most used by teachers and the one that they were most anxious to see obeyed.

I assume that it is progress of a sort that this morning she uttered her first trilingual sentence: Can I have a cáca milis in my boîte à tartines, please?

Interesting times ahead, I daresay.

You must be joking


Posted in: Family, Princess

When I was little, my father refused to explain jokes to me and this was a source of enormous irritation. I still remember one which I puzzled over for years.

Boy: What’s a feebly father?

Father: There’s no such thing.

Boy: There is, I read it in a book.

Father: What does it say?

Boy: He had a feebly growing down on his chin.

The Princess is now interested in jokes but she hasn’t the faintest clue how they work. Determined not to torture her as her grandfather did me, we tried to explain.

Me: Knock knock.

Mr. Waffle: Who’s there?

Me (thinking furiously): Ummm.

Him: Mr. Amnesia?

Me: Giggle.

Her: Why is that funny?

Me: No, no, it’s not, wait a minute what’s black and white and red all over?

Her (crossly): I don’t know.

Him: That’s more of a riddle really.

Me: Hissing noise.

Her (more crossly): I don’t know.

Me: A newspaper. See, it’s black and white and you read it all over, so it’s read all over.

Her: I see, I see. Let me try.

Us (enthusiastically): Ok.

Her: What’s yellow and doesn’t have any pages?

Us: Umm.

Her (laughing): A cushion.

I am beginning to see real merit in my father’s approach.

Anatomy of an unsuccessful evening


Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins

3 – Number of people who cried before dinner: the Princess because I wouldn’t give her a bowl of cornflakes, Michael because I wouldn’t let him have his party bag from the creche and me because the Princess cannoned in to me while I was sitting on the floor and knocked my head into the cast iron radiator (big bump).

3 – Number of people who actually ate any dinner: me, Mr. Waffle and the Princess (reluctantly), dinner boycotted by the boys (determinedly).

1 – Number of people who sat down triumphantly to a bowl of cornflakes at 8 o’clock.

2 – Number of people who howled hungrily and refused to get into the bath.

1 – Number of people who stayed up on the computer until one in the morning.

1 – Number of people awoken from slumbers in the middle of the night by errant spouse blinding him with bathroom light.

No, apparently there is no end to the guilt


Posted in: Princess

Me (while watching “Barbie of Swan Lake”): When we go back to Ireland, I’m going to make you watch all of your DVDs in French so that you don’t forget it.

Her (predictably as she is determined to forget every word of French she knows the second we set foot on Irish soil): No, you’re not.

Me: Why not?

Her: Because I won’t watch any DVDs in Ireland.

Me (knowingly): Oh won’t you, indeed, and what will you do?

Her (simply): I will play in my back garden.