We came back from France on a Monday and went to Kerry the following Saturday. In between, Michael learned to cycle. Just like that. Note anxious squeak from his mother half way through.
Daniel was very noble – not having quite managed to get the hang of it himself, he patted Michael on the shoulder and said, “I’m proud of you.”
We interrupt this endless detailing of summer holidays to point out that the children went back to school today. They seemed happy to be back. The boys have the same teacher as last year. I am delighted as she is lovely. Daniel was very keen to go back but Michael much less so. However, once they got their feet under the desks, they seemed very pleased with themselves. They are in second class and this is the year they make their first confession and first communion. Michael foresees much attendance at mass with deep gloom and is angling to be excused. I am trying very hard to underline the importance of the sacrament and not to resort to saying that he won’t get any money, if he doesn’t make his first communion. As he and Daniel have begun saving for an x-box (total so far, 70 cents), I can’t help feeling that it would be a significant incentive.
Due to numbers, fourth class, home to the Princess, has been divided in half (alphabetically)- she is in the fourth/fifth class end as are most of her friends. She looks very big in her school uniform now. She announced this morning that she no longer has to jump to get her uniform down from its shelf.
And tomorrow, I’m going to go back to work myself. I have slightly mixed feelings about this. I note that I have not had a migraine all summer. But I miss my work which is really interesting and my colleagues who are lovely. I may not be so enthusiastic by Friday.
As you read this, if all goes according to plan, I will be on the ferry to France with my loving family.
A full debrief will follow after our return in mid-August. In the interim, I plan to schedule posts on our holiday in Garryvoe last week. With photos. Go on, you can’t wait. More tomorrow.
In other news today is the 11th anniversary of the day the wonderful Mr. Waffle and I got married. We will be celebrating with our family in the self-catering cafeteria on board the ferry before retiring to separate cabins with a child and a half each in tow. When I said, hopefully, to the children that the 28th was Mummy and Daddy’s wedding anniversary and that they should be nice to us, Michael replied, “Do I have to?” I sometimes think that family life isn’t for romantics.
Michael (to his sister): And you like pink which is a colour for girls, babies, worms and toads.
We were in town buying new shoes the other day. Michael languidly extended his foot to the shop assistant. “Stop acting like a little pasha and put the shoe on yourself,” I said. “What’s a pasha?” asked Michael. The shop assistant replied, “A pasha is under a sultan – do you know a sultan? They were in charge of the Ottoman empire and it was very important although they were defeated by European forces in the Battle of Lepanto in 1571. Do you know the poem, “Lepanto”? “Don John of Austria is going to the War..”
Ah, so that’s where our arts graduates are going.
Daniel and Michael asked me to read to them from a book called “Yuck” the other night at bed time.
I have never read a more disgusting book in my life. Yuck is the most repulsive child. I actually started to feel vaguely ill as I read. Picture the scene, Yuck is in his bedroom playing. He goes to the wardrobe and gets out a bag of bogies from which he proceeds to build a castle which he fills with creepy crawlies. As his mother comes upstairs, he quickly hides it under his bed. His mother and sister come into the room. He empties another bag on to the floor filled with dried scabs [lovingly described]. “What are you doing?” asks his mother? “Playing tiddlywinks,” he says and flicks two scabs into his sister’s mouth.
I am foreswearing Yuck. If they want him in future, they can read him themselves. Need I say that they were rolling around the floor laughing as I read this revolting story?