belgianwaffle

T’choupi is the world’s most boring mole.Â Our infant daughter loves him.Â They have a T’choupi book at the creche and she had to be wrenched away from it kicking and screaming.Â Mr. Waffle decided we needed to lay in T’choupi resources of our own and went to the bookshop this weekend to stock up.Â He couldn’t see any T’choupi stuff on the shelves, so he asked a bored assistant whether he was familiar with T’choupi the mole.Â “No, can’t say I’ve heard of him….unless you mean T’choupi the famous mole?”Â and he led Mr. Waffle round a corner to a shrine dedicated to T’choupi. Bingo.

Meanwhile the Princess and I were visiting the Glam Potter and little L.Â It will come as no surprise to learn that L has her own T’choupi volume and the two girls sat on the floor tugging at it and screaming “T’choupi, T’choupi” until I came and separated the combatants and escorted herself, kicking and screaming (T’choupi) to the car.

What with one thing and another, “T’choupi” was my book of choice for mass this
morning.Â We were somewhat mortified as we went through the mole’s adventures sotto voce to see that the child next to us had a range of religious books which he was carefully perusing.Â Came home and related our discomfiture to Mr. Waffle.Â “And” I said “one of the books was called ‘Je vous salue Marie'”.Â “Yes?”.Â “But don’t you tutoyer God along with parents, friends and pets?” “Oh yes but you vousvoyer Mary”.Â Dear Lord will the mysteries of French never cease to baffle me?

Sarcophagic Sonnet

5 March, 2005
Posted in: Reading etc.

O my dearest friend
Let not thy vengeful ghost
Haunt those thoughts we shared together, you and I,
For thou art not
And I alone must seek solace with another.

Anyone for “I breathe Byron”?

Comments

belgianwaffle

on 10 March 2005 at 09:43

OK, it’s all over, there are only 2 verses.

poggle

on 18 March 2005 at 11:16

Genius. Really.

belgianwaffle

on 22 March 2005 at 08:55

Absolutely pog.

Early promise

5 March, 2005
Posted in: Family, Princess

The other morning the Princess was having her porridge and playing with her letters. We put them all into their slots but, horror, the z was missing. “Mummy, mummy, missing z!” “Well, never mind, sweetie, it’ll turn up.” Sad shake of the royal head “Z lost mummy, find the z mummy.” Off we went, z-less, to the creche and work respectively and, on our return home the Princess skipped off to her toys. Almost immediately she ran over to me shrieking in delight “Mummy, I find the missing z” and waving the lost z enthusiastically. Our genius.

In other news, my parents still have no heating. The fifth man to look at the parental boiler blew it up. Also the house is elderly and the wiring is not all it might be, so my mother was watching the telly the other night with the electric and blow heaters on and a hot water bottle at her feet and she suddenly found herself plunged into darkness and had to wrestle with fuses. Weather shows no sign of clearing either. Much grimness in Cork. And finally, thank you to my greatest fan who emailed me the following
“You haven’t had a blog entry since 23 February. Is all ok. Not like you. Your
public is v. disappointed.”I feel loved!

Comments

dmtson 06 March 2005 at 19:40Now I feel mean for not bothering to send you an email.
Do you think the princess stole the letter Z from the creche? No…I’m sorry – I shouldn’t apply my dirty low-down standards to other peoples’ children.

belgianwaffle on 10 March 2005 at 09:42HJB, FT, you clearly just don’t care as much as my other friend. Yes, HJB, it is quite likely that she stole the Z from the creche…

Round-up

23 February, 2005
Posted in: Family, Princess, Reading etc.

Sitting in the back of the car with her menagerie, the Princess picks up a soft toy and holds it up to the window “Look, Sheepsie, a blue van”.Â Anxious to ensure fairness in all things, she then picks up a bear and presses its little nose to the window “Oh, Isabelle, a tram, look, look”. Finally, she waves doggy in the direction of the window “Doggy, see, lots of cars”

This email from a friend:
Thought of you the other day when reading about Noel Coward – he met a friend at a party – “we don’t have time to talk about each of us so we’ll just talk about me”

My parents’ heating has died.Â They have been cold for a week. It is snowing in Cork. Four men have already shaken their heads at
the parental boiler. They’re getting a blow heater and a draft proof front door tomorrow.

Comments

jackdalton

on 25 February 2005 at 17:11

No problem there on equality and distributed love!
Your friend is cruel.
Poor parents. A heating system that doesn’t is among life’s greatest find something to kick incentives.

belgianwaffle

on 05 March 2005 at 15:03

Well, pog, she has time.
JD, well, yes, cruel but not, I confess, entirely inaccurate.