belgianwaffle

Mr. Waffle’s quotes of the week


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Work

Scruples and the city

Explaining to his wife why he drove around the block four times rather than parking in the middle of the road and putting on his hasard warning lights and running in to the dry cleaner. To those of you who are shocked by my cavalier attitude to lawful driving, please note that we live in Belgium.

I suppose it’s reached uncritical mass

Suggesting a theory as to why Place Luxembourg has become a popular spot in Brussels for the young lobbyists, trainees and youthful Euro riff raff to hang out.

Is that the lowest standard of truth, something said to have been written on the internet?

On his wife’s reading out to him this line from the Irish Times: The … terror…was whipped into a frenzy by rumours … which [were] said to have been extensively discussed on such sites. [Emphasis added].  Might it have been worth journalist Kathy Sheridan’s time to maybe go online and have a quick look around the offending websites herself?

The fusing of two terminological traditions

On hearing that a colleague of his wife’s had said that Britain was to be “hauled before the beak for failure to transpose environmental directives”.

I’ve never written a poem before. Can you tell?


Posted in: Princess

Ecole Maternelle 2006-2008

Monsieur Marion,

Dernier de rang,

Portail, sonnette,

Bicyclette.

Madame Marie

Classe d’accueil.

Valérie, Tatienne

Première maternelle.

Madame Christine,

Dans la classe,

Chaise jaune, Matthias,

Etiquettes, Pinces à linge, Tablier, Plumier,

Farde (de communication),

Cartable.

Fancy fair, école en fête,

Quand est-ce que la pluie s’arrête?

Madame Martine,

Boîte à tartines,

Dans le bac,

Sur le crochet,

Bobo,

Repas chaud,

Garderie,

DVD.

Madame Bénédicte, Dany,

Chausseurs de gym.

Madame Sylvia,

Sous le préau,

Cours de récré,

Hasta luego,

Larmes, bisous,

Twinkle, twinkle n’y sera plus.

Only rhymes and scans in parts.  Very modern, no?  Alternatively, it could be a list of vocabulary.  Extremely modern.

Busy Day


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

The Princess completed her education in Belgium today and I felt quite sad as I walked her to and from school.  She was unmoved.

I took the three children as well as the childminder and her two children (it seemed like a good idea at the time) to the ophthalmologist this afternoon.  We spent an hour and a half there.  Truly, these are times that try men’s souls.  The Princess was excruciatingly badly behaved.   The only crumb of comfort was that both she and her brothers were very well behaved during their longish examinations and didn’t whine about the eye drops which appeared unpleasant.

I noted, by the simple expedient of nosily peering over the doctor’s shoulder as she typed up my children’s results, that the beautifully dressed and charmingly behaved boy who was waiting patiently for his appointment, shared a surname with the woman who will one day be queen of Belgium.  I later pointed this out to the Princess and followed up with the rider that this was, effectively, her first chance to impress a Prince and it had been an abject failure.  I further told her that I did not think that a real Princess would insist on lying (with her brothers) on the waiting room floor with her feet in the air showing off her stripy underpants.  I know what you are thinking; sarky comments of this nature are unwelcome.

On the eye front, the Princess and Michael have identical optic nerves (who knew you could tell); the Princess very deftly manoeuvered letters to reflect those on the screen; Michael mortified me by not knowing what an apple was or any of his colours (“I dunno”) but Daniel redeemed my reputation.  The Princess and Michael, as well as their identical optic nerves, share perfect eyesight.   This was the good news.  Unfortunately, poor Daniel’s eyesight is not improving.  We have been given a prescription for stronger glasses and he may yet have to have an operation.  We will have a long note to take to someone in Dublin.  I imagine we will have to translate it first.

Weekend


Posted in: Belgium, Family

We went to view the restored Porte de Hal yesterday.  It is all very interesting and beautifully done but I would have enjoyed it a great deal more, if the boys and I had not spent some considerable time stuck in the lift.

The button on the side of the lift with a picture of a telephone, yielded no answer; a stricken call to Mr. Waffle’s mobile phone gave me a voice message; and the alarm button though unpleasantly loud to the lift’s three sensitive passengers, appeared inaudible to anyone else in the building.  Meanwhile, the disembodied female voice in the lift continued to announce calmly to us that we were on the second floor.   This was clearly untrue as the lift kept descending.  The best bit was probably when the lights went out in the lift and we whizzed down to the basement.  We emerged physically unscathed to be met by a security guard who said “no need to worry, it happens all the time, we knew you were in there, it rights itself automatically – you see I knew just where to wait for you to come out.”  While this may remove the need for staff to worry, I can’t see it as being ideal for visitors.  It is perhaps something the authorities could usefully look into.

We had people round to dinner last night and I spent today recovering from the unaccustomed alcohol intake (a Kir and two glasses of white wine – contrary to stereotypes, not all Irish people are great drinkers) by going for gentle walks around the park.

As I write, the children are all in bed asleep but they are unlikely to remain so as the large local Spanish community is celebrating Spain’s victory in the European Cup by driving around beeping their car horns and letting off fireworks under our windows.  Sigh.

A Practical Arrangement


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Michael completed his toilet training some time ago with almost no accidents.  So much for boys being bad at this.  This process has given me some unexpected insights.  It’s actually relatively hard for boys to aim with any accuracy but I am amazed how much easier it is for small boys to wee in public without wetting their clothes than it is for small girls.  I suppose I knew in theory but I never really expected to know in practice in quite so much detail.

A friend (mother of two daughters) tells me how she had a little boy to stay and after he had been to the bathroom, it was soaked.  He had stood at the toilet but every time he heard a noise outside the bathroom he had twirled around to see what it was and sprayed liberally as he turned.

Too much information?