I’m now somewhat over the air and the trees and the dairy. I’d sortof forgotten that the reason it’s so green and lush and fresh is because the weather’s default position is to rain, nonstop. Which is all well and good for a day or two, but three, four, FIVE days in a row? The low-light of the past week - possibly the past year - was a family day out to Ikea, purely because it had wifi, a children’s area, and a cafe. So there I sat, as the rain hammered down, in Ikea, in Sweden, where they were playing – I swear – Abba, feeling that I couldn’t be more immersed in Swedishness if your covered me in meatballs and put me in a dungeon with a schnapps-drinking serial killer. (On the plus side we managed to leave without ownership of any tealights or paper lampshades, which as far as I’m concerned is an Ikea-victory.)
All this rain is fraying tempers somewhat. Everyone is borrrrrreddddddd with the indoor toys, and there’s only so much tv / iPad playing which I’m comfortable with (2 hours, twice a day, in case you’re wondering). As a result, I am now the family Meanie. “You’re so MEAN!” the Boy roars at me several times a day. “What’s the point in having a tv if we can’t watch it whenever we want? YOU’RE SO MEAN!” “When I’m old I’m going to play video games ALL DAY LONG and I won’t let you do what you want, YOU’RE SO MEAN.” “What’s the point in you having Angry Birds on your phone if you won’t let me use it, YOU’RE SO MEAN” etc etc.
On the plus side, it is fostering some interesting conversations.
Last night, between the Boy and the Girl:
Boy: I’m not going to marry you when I grow up.
Girl: Oh. Why not?
Boy: Because I’m with you all the time as a kid, I don’t want to be with you all the time as a grown up too.
Girl: Oh. But that’s ok, I’ll just give you some space!
Boy: NO! What’s the point in having you as a sister if I have to be married to you as well! I need to get to know someone else.
Girl: That’s ok. I’ll marry Daddy instead.
And earlier today:
Boy: Mum, what’s Heaven?
Me (Knowing this can only go one way, and it ain’t up): It’s the name of a place where some people believe your soul goes after you die.
Boy: Oh. What’s a soul?
Me (See?): It’s what some people think is the part of your body which stores your goodness and your badness, and all other bits which make you you.
Boy: You mean your brain?
Me: Ummmm.... More like a ghost that lives inside you and makes you, who you are.
Boy: Oh. So my ghost would be curious?
Boy: And Ava’s ghost would be clumsy?
Me: Almost certainly.
Boy: And Mia’s would be cute?
Boy: And yours would be MEAN!
Roll on a month of rain in Ireland...