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Michael

29 May, 2007
Posted in: Youngest Child

Michael is very sociable. On Sunday we went to a christening and while the other two stayed near us, other than for forays to the cake table, Michael went everywhere. Feeling increasingly flustered, we found him in the back garden worming his way into the middle of a group of small boys poking the hedge with a stick; we found him chatting up the caterers; we found him poised to try that trick of pulling a tablecloth off a table while leaving all the glass ware in place, in fact he was only too anxious to abandon his loving parents.

I’ve noticed this before. I remember once going to the sandpit and establishing myself, the Princess and the boys in one corner with all our stuff to see Michael striding out to the opposite side to ingratiate himself with the children over there. The combination of this sociability and physical daring bordering on foolhardiness reminds me of both his uncles, in a slightly unnerving way.

No prizes for guessing which boy is busy trying to imitate the Princess in her death defying leap; this despite the considerable handicap of not actually being able to jump yet and also the added difficulty that when he falls over on his back he has to lie there waving his limbs in the air like a stranded beetle until someone comes and rescues him. In this house, that can take ages. I have no video evidence of his jumping, partly because somebody has to catch him and partly because the moment he hears the camera being switched on, he comes haring over to have a look at old photos of himself.

Yesterday afternoon he drank a cup of cold tea I had left on the coffee table (the very one that features in the death defying leap) and last night he woke at 2.00 and stayed awake chatting manically until 5.22.  Mr. Waffle watched some telly with him but he kept flicking and I tried to talk to my sister in Chicago but he grabbed the phone from me and repeated excitedly “hello, hiya” until we both gave up.  I hope Michael never encounters stronger drugs than caffeine.

Birth announcements

28 May, 2007
Posted in: Reading etc.

From Saturday’s Irish Times:

“Hello World! I’m Jamie Duke Callaghan and I arrived on May 1, 2007. My sister Molly Mae and Mum and Dad…are thrilled. Momo, John, Momo, Donal and loads of other people have been really good to me and I am looking forward to a great life. Bring it on…”

In the unusual names segment of competition:

“…A treasured sister to Fulton, Sofia, Mia and Sabastine…”

Yes, prime minister

26 May, 2007
Posted in: Princess

Me: Can you believe Michael McDowell lost his seat?

Her: What, what, WHAT are you talking about?

Mr. Waffle: Well, sweetheart, you know there are people who make laws and decide what’s legal and illegal?

Her: Yes.

Him: Well, in Ireland they were picking people to do that and…

Me: They go and put a cross on a piece of paper beside the name of the person they want to win.

Him: Well, technically that’s a spoiled vote.*

Her: WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

Him: Anyway, this man wanted to be the boss but not enough people voted for him and now he’s not going to be working with the other people making laws in a big building, called the Parliament.

Her: Why did he want to be the boss?

Him: Well, some people do. Your mother and I wouldn’t like to be in charge in that kind of job but some people would like it.

Her (smiling): I would like it, I would like to be the boss.

No surprises there.

*Mr. Waffle on reading over this has said that I should explain that in Ireland we have a  list system but one where you must rank the candidates in order of preference.  Further he says that he is not sure that marking a cross against one of the candidates is definitely a spoiled vote as it may be taken as a clear indication of preference.  Finally, he says that it is easy to use but hard to explain.

Stupid Ads

24 May, 2007
Posted in: Reading etc.

Has anyone else seen the ad for some accountancy body featuring a man wrestling with some enormous shark thing? There he is reeling in the enormous fish looking delighted with himself but, the advertisement claims, it wasn’t as exciting as the time he got his accountancy qualifications.

“[C]reative creatives creating creative creative” indeed.

Excuse me?

23 May, 2007
Posted in: Princess

Me: If you knock that off the table the carving knife might fall too and hurt me.

Her: And would you have to go to hospital?

Me: Possibly.

Her: That would be terrible.

Me: Yes.

Her: Dinner would go cold.

Wicked

22 May, 2007
Posted in: Reading etc.

I have just finished my first Jilly Cooper novel. Words cannot express my disappointment. No sex until page 431. What is going on here? Also a cast of characters so vast that they are listed over several pages at the start. There’s a special page for all the animal characters. It’s just as well. “Rowan had a whip round”. Hang on, who’s Rowan, is she Hengist Brett-Taylor’s greyhound or the school secretary? Or is that Brett Hengist-Taylor? Furthermore, never having read any of the Rutshire (Rutshire, honestly, has she no shame) novels, I am less than interested in the fate of Rupert Campbell-Black’s (or should that be Campbell Rupert-Black?) offspring and marriage.

Her characters are largely unashamed tories. I quite enjoyed Hengist saying that he worked in a private school so that he could avoid the dead hand of the “Council of Europe”. If you know nothing about the EU or could conceivably confuse the European Council with the Council of Europe (different, utterly different, trust me here), then this may not provide you with the same amusement value as it did me.

She has, however, some of my prejudices which is always welcome in an author.

Hideous, sandal wearing, doubtless eco-clothing clad, new agey, know it all aggressive breastfeeding character (rejoicing in the unlikely name of Poppet): I know you’re hurting.

Paris Alvaston (equally unlikely name of leading handsome male student): I’m not and hurt is a transitive verb.

I did read it until two in the morning a couple of nights running but that really says more about my lack of self restraint than the entertainment value of this tome.

I am just back from bookclub where we read “Mother’s milk” which I absolutely loathed and all the others loved.  I could not abide the main character, Patrick, who whined and whined because he had been disinherited.  I could see that it was well written but I couldn’t really get over my desire to shake Patrick and tell him to cop himself on. The others saw his whininess as symptomatic of his upbringing and were fascinated by the wider theme of how unloving mothers can damage their children and whether we are destined to repeat our parents’ errors.  Alas for all the nuances I missed.  I won’t be rereading all the same.

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