When mama meerkat is away…

A couple of weekends ago, the boys were left to their own devices, when Her Gorgeous Self decamped to the neighbouring kingdom to visit her siblings who are Her Majesty’s subjects.

Yes, the long anticipated first solo trip without E finally happened. HGS had finally relented and reluctantly agreed that at this point in time, her precious offspring would be well looked after by his dad for a few days. Hmmm!!

In my mind and only in my mind, this boys only weekend went something like this:

• Dawn to dusk in our comfy PJs (do they have those all-in-one baby jumpsuits for adults?)

• TV remote firmly stuck on the sports channels, volume turned up (none of that Reality TV muck or Jennifer Aniston rom-coms);

• Use the blender to produce concoctions that are probably illegal in Utah or some such place;

• Connecting electronic and entertainment gadgets that normally have no symbiotic relationship whatsoever;

• Chicken wings for breakfast and lunch, ribs for supper all downed with Kombucha;

• Toilet seat up all the time, etc, you get the drift?

In reality, the weekend with my son was one of the best I have had since he was born all those 20 months or so ago. We bonded like never before, mainly because that ‘distraction’ called mummy was nowhere in sight (and with E out of sight is truly out of mind).

As most dads do discover, its all about mummy when she is around and there is less attention on dad (in fact, I would say more like clingy in the toddler years). Of course looking at that list up there, certain things happened: the TV and subwoofer volume was loud and there were certainly less greens on the plate, certain laddish gadgets made a rare apperance, personal hygiene was somewhat parked for the weekend but we had a grand old time.

The absolute glee on E's face when we 'danced' to music, lay on the soft carpet with our feet in the air, played piggyback, played all his favourite nursery ryhmes, ate all sorts of snacks or stayed up a little bit later than usual was just priceless. This fatherhood lark is a peach!! Ahem!!!

Next challenge is to convince mummy that the boys are now ready to take that ‘boys only’ trip to Anfield or perhaps further afield to the F1 Grand Prix in Abu Dhabi or Singapore.

Now that would be one helluva a weekend!!

An educationalist par excellence

Br Martin Duncan, who passed away, last week in South Africa after a short illness, was an educationalist par excellence. A principled and good man to boot.

And judging by the heartfelt condolence messages posted on various social media by so many old boys he taught over many years, his positive influence seemingly affected hundreds who attended the Christian Brothers schools at Embakwe and Bulawayo in Zimbabwe and CBCs Welkom and Springs in South Africa.

I can certainly say that Br Duncan was one of a handful of educators who shaped and moulded my egalitarian world view early on. He saw leadership qualities in me which I did not realise existed or in fact, truth be told I was too lackadaisical to utilise.

Such was his faith in me that he convinced me to become head prefect in final year of secondary school. I say convinced, because I was not particularly interested in the role, seemingly content in being just a prefect and in the shadows.

Many years later when I became one of the country’s youngest sub-editors at a leading national newspaper, he would remind me of my initial reluctance to take a leadership role and how even back then he realised that I would always be there and thereabouts.

Many were an evening when I would sit down with him in his office and we would discuss events taking place in the school and more generally about what was happening in the wider world. Generally, I can credit him with instilling in me, a keen interest in current and world affairs and a politically inquisitive mind.

I know he was also puzzled by my occasional predilection for rowing with teachers even as he counted me as one of the school’s ‘bright sparks’. Indeed, I was permanently banned from History (in 4^th year) and Maths (in 3^rd year) classes as a result and generally did not endear myself that well to most of the teaching staff, more so when I became head prefect.

Br Duncan was stern when he needed to be (as any principal or head teacher worth their salt can be), but mostly had a smile that set you at ease when you least expected. Like most educators of the era, he had a little ‘whangee’ (a padded little strap for meting out discipline to delinquent pupils). Strangely, despite my subversive relationship with the teaching staff, me and the ‘whangee’ never got acquainted.

I last saw Br Duncan a week or so before I headed for Ireland and he was palpably excited that I was going to the land where his Christian Brothers congregation had been founded by Edmund Rice in the early 19^th century in Waterford, Ireland.

He had lots of advice and most importantly gave me contacts that proved to be invaluable when I landed in Ireland and set about establishing myself.

There are so many young to middle aged men now scattered all over the world who are very thankful that they had the fortune to fall under the considered tutelage of Br Martin Duncan.

May he rest in peace!

The Magic Spoon!

Well, here we are now (so sang Kurt Cobain). At 15 months, E finally decided that the time was right to try out his little tiny at a spot of walking – well wading and bouncing around the house with much glee painted on his face.

Whilst we had been told that there is no real set timeframe for when toddlers decide to start walking, we kinda felt young Master Ethan was taking his sweet, sweet time particularly around the time he turned 14 months.

Then one day, he just got up and started toddling around the house, toppling over harmlessly on his little bum and immediately getting up and setting off again.

Now at 17 months, E reckons he has mastered the simple task of putting one foot after the other and propelling himself forthwith! That – when we are out in open space – mainly entails him launching off in the opposite direction of wherever we are meant to be headed. Stubborn little fella that he is, it’s his way or hit high road mum and dad.

Such is his zest for ‘walking’ that we both reckon if we let him, E would just walk from where we live all the way to Cork, some 256 km away. Frankly, with his favourite peeled apple in one hand and a spoon in the other, I bet he could too!

Ah yes, the spoon. E has thing with spoons. Whilst his contemporaries tug a much cherished teddy, squeaky toy, or some such toddler paraphernalia, E loves his plastic spoons. And I am not talking here of these contraptions that they peddle nowadays that look like a Disney or Pixar character with a little obligatory ‘spoony’ bit at the end – basically a toy that pretends it is also a feeding utensil. No, E’s ‘toy’ this is a basic toddler spoon. 

We have tried to foist on him numerous soft, elaborate and noisy toys which now litter the house, but no, the humble spoon is his soother and calms him down when he is agitated, such that early, he would clutch one whenever we took him out in the car.

We have never figured out why he is attached to a spoon.

More of E’s quirks later…

Say what?

A chap who stayed a city hotel overnight was presented with a bill for €250, which he felt was too much. When he asked why, the hotel manager told him it was a standard charge. She added that the hotel had Wi-fi, satellite TV, a pool and a spa. When the chap insisted that he had used none of these services, the manager told him that they were available and he could have. So the man took out €50 from his wallet and told the manager he was deducting €200 for sleeping with him overnight. “I certainly did not,” spluttered the stunned manager. The man replied, “Ah, but I was available and you could have.”

A Bit of Word Play!

I usually dont cut and paste stuff from the web for this blog, but I couldn't resist when I came across this lot. If you were asked to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition, what would you come up with?

Here is a list of what Washington Post readers came up with:

1. Cashtration (n): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

2. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

3. Intaxicaton: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5. Bozone (n): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops

bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high

8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these

really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into

your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.


When asked to come up with alternate meanings for common words, The Washington Post readers produced these gems: 

And the winners are:

1. Coffee, n.. The person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.

3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.

6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.

7. Lymph, v.. To walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.