We had the school Feis last Saturday. The Princess won second place with her rendition of “An TÃogar” by Máire Nà Ghallchobhair. She was very pleased.
And she got cake.
Neither of her brothers won anything (“An Seilide” by Gabriel Rosenstock for Michael and “An bhfaca tú mo ShéamaisÃn?” Traditional for Daniel). They both cried. Not in the course of their performance but on hearing the results of the independent jury. Alas.
Look, Daniel has shark teeth.
Cool!
I came home from work one day to find that the Princess had written her will and got the boys to draw up wills also. She had given them a fictional €100 to dispense. I said to Daniel, “Will you read me your will?” He started out cheerily enough. “I leave [herself] €15. I leave Michael half of the money and the parents all the rest. Signed Daniel.” And then his voice broke as he read, “I wish that all of my relatives never forget me.” He’d drawn a tombstone with RIP on the back.
Honestly, she’s like Wednesday Addams.
Daniel: Prey is the same as warship, isn’t it?
Me: Well, no, prey is something you chase after and normally a warship does the chasing.
Herself: He means pray and worship and, Dan, the answer is yes.
I have a tendency to burst into song. Doesn’t everyone? I was walking along with Daniel the other day, it was sunny and I was humming away to myself. He slipped his little hand in mine and tugged gently. “What is it sweetheart?” I asked. He replied, “Stop singing, you’re embarrassing me.”
As I mentioned we were in Cork at the weekend. I decided to take the children to Charles Fort.
Me: Tomorrow, we’re going to see a fort!
Daniel: I don’t want to go.
Me: It’ll be great, it’s a really big, impressive fort.
Daniel (dubiously): But forts are invisible.
Me: Not this one, it’s huge.
Princess: A fort Daniel, not a fart.
The next day we set off to walk two long kilometres to the fort. We did not get off to a good start. Daniel had a sore knee which I thought would go away, but didn’t. He just limped there and back uncomplainingly. My saintly middle child. Michael meanwhile dragged himself along saying “My legs are so tired”. He was the first to realise that once we got to the fort we would have to walk back again. He wasn’t pleased. I wasn’t so pleased myself, I had three unhappy children and I was carrying two guns – a pistol and a nerf gun – and a light sabre (to attack the fort).
However, once we reached Summercove, things began to look up. We were fortified by lunch at the Bulman (which I cannot recommend highly enough – herself had an enormous bowl of mussels, I had crab claws and the boys a portion of chips each – in our own way, we were all happy). Then the fort was great. And it didn’t rain on us. Always a plus in any Irish outing. And, as always, the road back didn’t seem quite so long.
Herself:
Saintly middle child:
Patrolling with Nerf Gun:
Scenery (obligatory):
