central heating equipment, considering putting my kids on eBay, dublin, ireland, life lesson, parenting, resting on stones is NOT comfortable, tourism, where is mrs mememe2u???

Cocktail sausages a la Neanderthal

Following a cheerful team effort, Mrs mememe2U, the children and I enjoyed a tasty meal in an idyllic setting. 

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Yeah, roight. Their promise to help me gather the twigs and branches resulted in three miserable pieces of rotten and waterlogged wood being thrown hastily at my feet before they resumed their favourite activity: torturing each other and screaming like pigs being dragged down a back alley towards the man with the stained apron and the sledge hammer.

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I had to get all the wood (small and super dry twigs, small and sort of dry branches, medium sized not particularly dry branches – in order of placement on the pyre where Superquinn cocktails sausage would meet an untimely – and unsightly – death).
I had to light the fire, make sure that it would survive, thrive even.
I had to fashion some cooking implements with my bare hands, and the little key-shaped foldable knife/mini saw that always get through security checks at airports, even though the blade is viciously sharp.
I had to show Mrs mememe2U how to impale a cocktail a sausage in such a manner that it may stay on the cooking stick long enough to be cooked to the desired level (cremated on the outside, raw on the inside).
Safety instructions were calmly communicated. And not heard.
Safety orders were screamed. And unheeded.
Tongues were burned and their owners not consoled. “I told you so, didn’t I?!” being the only words of comfort hungry and narky parents were willing to dispense.
Lady D.I. was in a grump for most of the proceedings, mostly due to the fact that she was cold. Had she moved closer to the fire during the sausage impaling exercise, she would have discovered that it had heating as well as cremating properties.
Once the kids had their fill of crunchy-raw sausages, I cracked the pack of marshmallows open.
More burned tongue, more cries, more molten marshmallow smeared on faces and stuck in strands of hair.

And yet, my instinct tells me that we will do it again.
And that deep down I will enjoy it as much as I did today.

It ain’t that easy to smother the Neanderthal in me.

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Cul de sac

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This morning I willingly drove down a cul de sac.
Knowing full well that I would have to backtrack.

Don’t get me wrong. I am usually all in favour of the straight line being the quickest way between two points.

But my five year old would beg to differ.

Whenever we drive back home after dropping Mrs mememe2U, Luca and Mimi at the Dart station, he asks me to take the short cut back home.
And he always points to the same dead-end street.
And I always tell him that it is not a short cut, that it is a dead-end street (I never say Cul de Sac, no way am I going to use a term named after an arse).

Today, I just drove down the dead-end street.
Sometimes, telling a kid that a cul de sac is cul de sac is not enough. They have to see it for themselves.

I too was sort of curious to find out what was at the arse end of the cul de sac.

Now I know: a rotting Audi S8. And a woman who becomes very suspecting when strangers-with-no-business-here come to the end of the dead-end street to make a 3 point turn (I am quite sure that she took down my reg).

Finnzy-Bob was delighted.

I’ve got a feeling that somehow next Tuesday I will feel a tinge of disappointment when he does not ask me to take the short cut.

But then again, nothing tells me that he won’t.

I am not sure if the demonstration was convincing enough…

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Double whopper

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Four spaces for two cretins.

2×2 for the 4×4 and his van-the-man mate.

I spotted them instantly inside the service area’s deserted Burger King.

They were both hurriedly shoving double whoppers in their big ravenous gobs. How adequate…

Game of the week:

Where is Mrs mememe2u?

ImageCouldn’t find her? Aw, go on, you get a second chance!

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Not for fainthearted: when good (well sort of…) pets turn bad. Seconds before the savage attack

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Today weather you ask? I can barely believe it as I type: not changeable, oh no! Today was: sunny!(?)

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