I overheard the Princess explain her activities at school to Daniel:
“We are currently painting our shoeboxes to make them into cribs, we will be adding straw to the floor of the manger presently.” [Emphasis original]
Clearly, a proud moment.
Violent, Enid Blyton-Loving Gaelgeoir Proclaims Loyalty
Herself: It’s funny how knowing about something changes your loyalties.
Me: How do you mean?
Herself: Well when I lived in Belgium, if someone had said that Irish was pointless I would probably have agreed but now, if someone said that, I would jolly well hit him in the face.
When Speed is not of the Essence
I subscribed to the Economist for Mr. Waffle for Christmas. Yes, I know what you’re thinking, you’re right. What can I say, he’s hard to buy for.
I ordered it the other day and they said it would take three weeks to arrive. I was therefore, understandably, mildly peeved when this evening he waved a copy in front of me and said, “This arrived today for me – is it my Christmas present?”
“Happy Christmas”.
In completely unrelated news, I am inexplicably fascinated by the deeply offensive Horse Outside. Maybe it’s because I’m half Limerick myself.
Restoration Drama
For her own obscure reasons, the Princess tossed a pen on top of the bookshelf on the landing and asked me to get it down. Standing on top of a chair, I groped blindly behind the books stacked on the top and felt something soft and extremely dusty. He’s back, the one and only, the original transitional object.
New Development
Herself has taking to cooking. She does all the measuring, creaming and mixing. We light the oven and put in the cakes. We are greeted on weekend mornings with requests to be allowed to cook. We are full to the brim with cakes and buns. I am not sure whether this will be sustainable in the longer term. But we are all very impressed all the same.
