belgianwaffle

School Reports


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

The children’s school reports have come in. They are good; we are pleased; they are pleased. The reports acknowledged the most impressive feat of the year – Michael who could barely read last September is now an excellent reader. And better again, he loves to read. Although not as much as he likes to play on my phone.

The Princess took the explanatory leaflet on standardised scores to bed with her so that she could work out what her results really meant. She’s going to be debriefing me later.

Daniel continues to marry ability and hard work in a manner that I can only hope will lead to great things in later life. Or, at the very least, employment.

Obsession


Posted in: Work

A colleague of mine likes to cycle. This is a much more expensive hobby than the uninitiated might expect. 600 quid for a set of bicycle wheels. And that’s a bargain. He would come in from lunch with a bicycle saddle under his arm having done a deal with someone on the internet. Anyhow, he made his bike. He brought it into the office one day. Literally, as he felt it wasn’t safe in the garage. I lifted up his super-light, titanium, immensely expensive, fairy-dust sprinkled bike. “It’s not that light,” said I. “Ah,” he said, “you need to take off the water bottle.”

Sharper than a Serpent’s Tooth


Posted in: Princess

The Princess and I went rollerblading on the road this afternoon. It was toasty, I was wearing shorts. When the Princess saw me in my rollerblades she became hysterical. “Your legs are so fat and wobbly,” gasped she. On seeing that I was far from pleased by this artless confidence, she sobered up and said, “It’s just that fat legs are so jolly.” Indeed.

Unwelcome


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

At 6.19 the other morning Michael came into our bedroom fully dressed. “Surprise!” he said, “I’m ready to go to school.” We were surprised.

In All Fairness


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

Like the middle aged mother I am, I stood staring at mobile phone covers in the Vodafone shop for a long time trying to work out what would suit me best. A shop assistant came up, advised, put me out of my misery and switched on my roaming for me. I could feel that the people behind me in the queue might have been a bit tense on their lunch breaks but I was a happy woman.

And then, you may recall that Mr. Waffle got me a new phone for Christmas. Part of the rather generous deal was that he would cover the bills. From time to time, I would hear him muttering darkly as he wrestled with the internet billing system. To no avail. Between January and June, no bills came. He began to get concerned. He went to the Vodafone shop. “Oh sorry sir” said they [or words to this effect – does anyone say sir anymore?] “Entirely our fault; there’s a problem with our billing system. We won’t charge you for the period between Christmas and June.”

Am I feeling warm and fuzzy towards vodafone, oh yes I am.