The scene: An epic table football battle between Michael and me.
Me: It’s not over until the Fat Lady sings and you don’t hear me singing, do you?
Michael: You’re not fat, Mummy.
Me: How kind of you to say so, Michael.
Him: You’re just a bit pudgy.
Michael: What day is my birthday on?
Me: 27 September.
Him: No, what DAY?
Me: Oh, sorry, um, it’s actually a Sunday this year.
Him: Will I have to go to mass?
Me: Yes.
Him: On my birthday?
Me: Yes.
Him: My birthday is ruined.
I had Michael in Cork for the weekend recently. One evening he, my father and I sat down to dinner together. My father is quite deaf. Michael was anxious to return to the iPad. But we were sitting at the dinner table. I was sitting in my mother’s place and perhaps something of her spirit infused me as I strained my (I like to think) not inconsiderable skills as a conversationalist to breaking point.
Me: Michael, ask Granddad what it was like at school when he was a little boy?
Michael (dutiful but indifferent): What was it like at school when you were a little boy, Granddad?
My father: What?
Me (loudly and in the face of Michael’s manifest indifference): He wants to know what it was like at school when you were a little boy.
My father (testily): I can’t remember, it was years ago.
Me (loudly): Michael, you like school, don’t you.
Michael (quietly): No.
My father: What’s that?
Me (loudly): Nothing.
[Several more minutes pass in vain attempts to promote conversation on my part – the other protagonists remain largely indifferent]
Me: Will we excuse Michael?
My father and Michael (in tones of considerable relief): Yes.
We’re having a “Pride and Prejudice” moment here. You may recall that we went to see a play before Christmas and herself has read the novel. We saw the film with Keira Knightly. Mr. Waffle brought home the BBC series from the library and the Princess and I watched it together.
During that last, rather lengthy, process over several evenings, Michael annoyed us both by looking up briefly from playing on my phone [or “our phone” as he calls it] and saying, “So, Pride and Prejudice is basically about a bunch of girls who get married?”
It is Lent. The children have brought their Trócaire boxes home from school. Michael instantly deposited his entire savings of €15 in the box. I suggested that he might like to give a percentage of his savings but no, with tears in his eyes he told me that “these children really need it”. As Mr. Waffle said, there is a reason why they distribute Trócaire boxes in schools, not workplaces.
Michael has given up the computer for Lent it may kill him. Daniel has given up Fifa 14 but this is not the sacrifice it might be as we also have Fifa 13.
Daniel (who, you will recall, is 8): Where am I going to secondary school?
Me: We’ll see it’s not until you’re 12, we have time.
Daniel: Well I want to go to [the school for which his primary is a feeder].
Me: OK, that’s quite likely, why do you want to go there?
Daniel: Because my friends and I are all going to go there together and then we’re all going to college in Trinity and then [pause] we’ll live our lives.
On questioning Michael, he too had the same plans – clearly there’s a group in the class hard at work on these important issues. When asked, “Why Trinity?” he said, with dignity, “Because I know where it is.” Practical.