Michael: A woman can’t be a schoolmaster.
Me: But Michael, your own teacher is a woman.
Michael: No, a woman can’t be a schoolmaster.
Me: Of course she can.
Mr. Waffle: Can a woman be a schoolmistress, Michael?
Michael: Yes, of course.
Youngest Child
Literally
Those of you following Ireland’s progress will know that the banks have behaved badly. I can be lyrical on this point. I have been, in fact, to the extent that the children are dimly aware of the banks’ role in our current crisis and can’t quite understand why I insist that they leave their money there rather than letting them spend it – by far their preferred option.
We were in the car in the morning on the way to school and I was talking to Mr. Waffle about this repossession. The sheriff was defeated, at least temporarily, by the “random legal word generator”. In this case the words “constitution”, “common law”, “separation of powers” and “inviolable” were brandished to good effect. While, the arguments adduced made no legal sense whatsoever, the emotional argument that the banks had got away without any sanction did strike a chord. “Of course,” said I bitterly “the banks got away with murder.”
Michael piped up from the back seat, “WHAT, the banks murdered someone?”
God and Pharmacology Working Together to Make a Better World
I was ill last week. I am almost never properly ill (as opposed to whining and sniffling into work with some Lemsip in my bag). I did not enjoy it. I had taken some time off work to go to Cork with the children for mid-term and I was not pleased with the timing of my illness. Reluctantly I dragged myself to the doctor and paid €55 for a diagnosis and a course of antibiotics. I started straight away.
My father is a pharmacologist. He is against the reckless use of antibiotics. This was therefore my second ever course of antibiotics. They were quite miraculous. I was able to drive to Cork as planned. I picked the children up from school having told them that this would not be possible as I was too sick. They were pleased. Michael was unsurprised: “I told the teacher you were sick and we wouldn’t be able to go to Cork and I was sad. So, we all said a prayer for you to be better and now you are!”
Parenting Fail
Children’s dinner yesterday:
Princess – nothing;
Daniel – spoonful of canned sweetcorn with ketchup;
Michael – reheated Yorkshire pudding.
Children’s dinner today:
All – Domino’s pizza.
Unenthused
Michael is a bit unclear about the days of the week. One morning he asked, “Is today a mass day?” “No,” I said, “it’s a school day.” “That’s even worse,” he groaned.
Can I run?
Every day, we park around the corner from the school. The boys tumble out of the car and say, “Can I run?” and then hare off up the road. I remember vaguely, the joy of running quickly, of feeling your feet flying over the ground almost like bouncing on air. I wonder, when does that go away?