Herself: That story about the labourers is really unfair.
Me: Mmm, my granny always hated the one about Martha and Mary. She used to say that Jesus would have got cranky fast enough if someone wasn’t bringing him a sandwich and a cup of tea or the biblical middle east equivalent.
Herself: And how about the prodigal son, how is that fair?
Me: Well, I suppose the prodigal son and the labourers are parables…
Her: Oh come on, God needs to start accepting some constructive criticism.
Princess
Endless Summer – Dublin Cinema
We came back to Dublin on Thursday, July 16. The cat was delighted to see us back.
That night, the boys and I went to the opening night of the IFI family festival where we saw “Inside Out”. As it was the opening night, they had various competitions and events for the children. As they went around the stalls, Michael was given a stage pass. Before the film started, the children with stage passes were called up to the front. Michael loves this kind of thing and bounded up. There were four other children onstage. They had to do a little piece where they answered “sausage” or “banana” to every question asked. The other children were nervous and almost inaudible. Michael was in his element and had the audience rolling in the aisles. He got awarded the winning prize of the “golden banana” and I have worked out what he can do when he grows up. A win all round.
In fact, it was afterwards I was most pleased. Michael might have been tempted to boast but he hardly referred to his triumph because he felt for Daniel who hadn’t won a prize. Daniel for his part was sad that he shouldn’t have been chosen to go on stage and didn’t win a prize but bravely congratulated Michael and was pleased for him.
We went back to the festival on Saturday with all of the children and a friend (tickets, incidentally fantastic value at €15 for a family and €5 for an individual). We saw a terrific German language film, Winnetou’s Son. It was very sparsely attended which was brilliant for our little group as the star of the film was there with his mother and in the Q and A, they got to ask him loads of questions. He was a lovely, immensely polite child and he posed cheerfully for pictures afterwards:
Added bonus, Michael was yet again exposed to the advantage of speaking foreign languages. The star was 11 and didn’t really speak English. Mr. Waffle and I speak German (he’s much better than me but I like to talk more so it kind of evens out) so we were able to chat to the star and his mother which Michael could see was useful loath though he might have been to admit it.
Then we went to the closing film. It was a Norwegian film with beautiful cinematography. When I hear the words “beautiful cinematography” I always think, “rotten film”. The film wasn’t bad, it’s about three children who get stranded in the Arctic through a series of deeply improbable events, but for this once, the cinematography really did make the film for me. It was one of the most stunningly beautiful films to look at. The children found it reasonably enjoyable; the main characters are an older sister and her annoying twin siblings and this resonated particularly with some of the family, less so with others. Michael, for example, doesn’t want to see another film, possibly ever, certainly not for some months.
Big City Child
I was folding sheets with herself on the landing when I heard a coo from a pigeon which appeared to come from the fireplace in my room. Something about the acoustics of the chimney makes pigeons up on the roof sound like they are cooing in the chimney breast. I find it peaceful. It reminds me of the pigeons in the huge lime tree that grew in the garden of the house I grew up in. You could hear them right up on the third floor, cooing softly as you went about your important childish business. “Can you hear the pigeons from your fireplace too?” I asked her thinking how this might also one day be one of her beloved childhood memories. “Yes,” she said “and, I think, filthy sky rats up my chimney.”
Slightly Afraid
Herself: I don’t want to go to scouts tonight.
Me: But you really enjoyed it the last time.
Her: But I’m tired tonight.
Me: Alright so.
Her: If you were a Tiger mother, you would make me go.
Me: Are you reading that “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” again?
Her: Yes.
Me: But you’ve read it twice already.
Her: Three times.
Sharing the Housework: Perceptions
I have said before that I am blessed to have a husband with a well developed sense of duty and a clear understanding that housework should be shared by both parents.
I thought I would check over dinner what the children’s view of this was.
Me: What work does Daddy do around the house?
Daniel: The laundry!
Michael: The cooking!*
Herself: The cleaning up after dinner!**
Me: And what do I do?
Long Pause
Me: Well, for starters, the tidying up! I am always picking up things and putting them away.
Michael: But that’s more of a hobby, really.
I think my work may not yet be done here. On a related matter, I was very struck by this post and the comments; worth a look, if you are working mother.
*At weekends
**During the week with the children
Greek Crisis: Analysis from our Local Team in Dublin
Herself: I’d like to go to Japan [inspired by her aunt’s recent trip].
Me: I bet it’s really dear at the moment; the euro is so weak.
Her: Why is the euro weak?
Me: Well, I suppose, now, it’s the Greek economy.
Her: What’s wrong with Greece?
Me: Well, it’s part of the eurozone and it’s doing very badly for a variety of reasons, so that creates problems for the currency as a whole.
Her: Well, then why don’t the other EU countries help Greece out?
Looks like another voice in favour of debt relief there.