Let’s face it, for those even vaguely familiar with the works of the renowned Irish writer, one Jonathan Swift, my wife and I would be classified among the Brogingnags Tribe. This is not to say that our physical presence alone represents a particularly giant like stature as indeed my good wife hardly breaks the five foot five height level. Rather it has to do with the fact that after spending a great deal of our lives devoted to rearing our small clan of little persons, in our case two ‘divine’ young daughters, we now seem far removed from this development stage and have become more attuned to adult company and grown up individuals. This has had a ‘knock on’ (perhaps not an ideal choice of words!) affect on the decor and disposition of our household which has now the studied grace and quiet refinement of a little well tended museum. However, since our youngest daughter presented us with two lovely grandchildren in recent years, the ‘knock on’ factor affecting our house has indeed become more pronounced.
On each recent visit by these adorable boys to our humble abode, I have noticed a significant and increasing shift in power and perspective from the ‘giants’ to the ‘little’ people. This process reached its zenith during our last festive season at Christmas when the whole house was taken over by two child cherubs, aged a mere 6 and 3, respectively. Long treasured items of any token value had to be quickly moved to higher shelves while two marauding young pirates gave full rein to their childish enthusiasm and zest for life. At first I thought that I could contain or even channel this seemingly endless energy surge but soon realised that any such thoughts were misplaced and extremely gullible on my part. I could hear my inner self advising me to ‘go with the flow’ and indeed I decided to ‘play along’ with the new power sweeping the house from top to bottom. I soon realised that I needed to travel lightly if I was to make any positive contribution to the ever-changing ‘toy story’ being lived out in the house. Thus, Thomas the Tank Engine tracks had to be quickly laid by me and batteries inserted in engines for the three year old while long forgotten Lego ships had to be retrieved from the attic and football gear set out for the 6 year old. The hens never had it so good as they were constantly fed by their two new admirers and eggs collected and replaced so that each fellow could retrieve his own egg from the hens nest when he was ‘ready’. I noticed that I was now spending a great deal of the day lying prone at floor level so as best to interact with the new ‘low’ profile visitors Thus the whole character of the house was changed completely into a virtual ‘Lilliput’ by our new proteges during the festive season and our previous status as formal Brogingnags was thoroughly banished by the arrival of Hurricane Cherub.
This domestic transformation was an exhilarating if somewhat exhausting experience and our little friends left with their parents for Clifden for a few days ostensibly to show them new sights but really I feel more to give us time to recover our ‘wits’. However, I am delighted to say that they returned for New Year’s Eve when we decided to have a lantern flying celebration in the garden. There was great smoke and sparkles produced as the two boys and all their grown up relatives ran around the garden. Then we released our ‘lucky’ lanterns into the night sky with each of the two boys expressing a wish for the New Year. The wish was supposed to be kept a closely guarded secret but the younger James simply shouted ‘Happy’ as his wish and continued chasing madly about in his usual way. This was a lovely ‘Roswell’ like moment as I believe that such lanterns rise so high that some people have reported them as flying saucers in parts of Ireland.
At midnight we watched the amazing fireworks display on Sky TV from London and Sean (6) managed to stay awake just long enough to drink (water in his case) to our health. When he retired his parents related two little stories about the boys which warrant retelling in a short version below:
James (3) is fully ‘potty’ trained but does need a little help sometimes cleaning himself. So his Mum would call into to him at times and ask him if he needed any help. However, on one occasion when she herself was using the toilet, suddenly in came James and sat down on the small metal waste bin. Can I help you he says or get you a tissue! He was told unceremoniously to leave immediately but we all had a good laugh at his initiative!
Sean (6) was being left into school by his dad when they stopped at a traffic light. ‘what’s feckin’ wrong’ said Sean. His dad was visibly taken aback at what he considered to be Sean’s foul language and began to chastise him. However, Sean just pointed at the bus passing where the words ‘what’s feckin wrong’ were emblazoned on the side. So much for teaching children to read and thus they both saw the funny side of this story.
As you can see we had an amazing Festive Season with both our two daughters, their partners and of course with our wonderful grandchildren. My wife and I have decided as a New Year resolution to ‘lighten up’ and be guided by the new young spirit ‘sweeping’ the house. Indeed this was the only kind of sweeping that could be done while they were there. In fact the whole house resembled a dwelling after a tsunami when they returned to Dublin but the lovely memories lingered long after the dust had settled.
So the motto of this blog is never to fully loose touch with the innocence and joy of youth however old you get. And you can take it from this person’s ‘Gullible Travels’ that it will all prove worthwhile in the end.
On each recent visit by these adorable boys to our humble abode, I have noticed a significant and increasing shift in power and perspective from the ‘giants’ to the ‘little’ people. This process reached its zenith during our last festive season at Christmas when the whole house was taken over by two child cherubs, aged a mere 6 and 3, respectively. Long treasured items of any token value had to be quickly moved to higher shelves while two marauding young pirates gave full rein to their childish enthusiasm and zest for life. At first I thought that I could contain or even channel this seemingly endless energy surge but soon realised that any such thoughts were misplaced and extremely gullible on my part. I could hear my inner self advising me to ‘go with the flow’ and indeed I decided to ‘play along’ with the new power sweeping the house from top to bottom. I soon realised that I needed to travel lightly if I was to make any positive contribution to the ever-changing ‘toy story’ being lived out in the house. Thus, Thomas the Tank Engine tracks had to be quickly laid by me and batteries inserted in engines for the three year old while long forgotten Lego ships had to be retrieved from the attic and football gear set out for the 6 year old. The hens never had it so good as they were constantly fed by their two new admirers and eggs collected and replaced so that each fellow could retrieve his own egg from the hens nest when he was ‘ready’. I noticed that I was now spending a great deal of the day lying prone at floor level so as best to interact with the new ‘low’ profile visitors Thus the whole character of the house was changed completely into a virtual ‘Lilliput’ by our new proteges during the festive season and our previous status as formal Brogingnags was thoroughly banished by the arrival of Hurricane Cherub.
This domestic transformation was an exhilarating if somewhat exhausting experience and our little friends left with their parents for Clifden for a few days ostensibly to show them new sights but really I feel more to give us time to recover our ‘wits’. However, I am delighted to say that they returned for New Year’s Eve when we decided to have a lantern flying celebration in the garden. There was great smoke and sparkles produced as the two boys and all their grown up relatives ran around the garden. Then we released our ‘lucky’ lanterns into the night sky with each of the two boys expressing a wish for the New Year. The wish was supposed to be kept a closely guarded secret but the younger James simply shouted ‘Happy’ as his wish and continued chasing madly about in his usual way. This was a lovely ‘Roswell’ like moment as I believe that such lanterns rise so high that some people have reported them as flying saucers in parts of Ireland.
At midnight we watched the amazing fireworks display on Sky TV from London and Sean (6) managed to stay awake just long enough to drink (water in his case) to our health. When he retired his parents related two little stories about the boys which warrant retelling in a short version below:
James (3) is fully ‘potty’ trained but does need a little help sometimes cleaning himself. So his Mum would call into to him at times and ask him if he needed any help. However, on one occasion when she herself was using the toilet, suddenly in came James and sat down on the small metal waste bin. Can I help you he says or get you a tissue! He was told unceremoniously to leave immediately but we all had a good laugh at his initiative!
Sean (6) was being left into school by his dad when they stopped at a traffic light. ‘what’s feckin’ wrong’ said Sean. His dad was visibly taken aback at what he considered to be Sean’s foul language and began to chastise him. However, Sean just pointed at the bus passing where the words ‘what’s feckin wrong’ were emblazoned on the side. So much for teaching children to read and thus they both saw the funny side of this story.
As you can see we had an amazing Festive Season with both our two daughters, their partners and of course with our wonderful grandchildren. My wife and I have decided as a New Year resolution to ‘lighten up’ and be guided by the new young spirit ‘sweeping’ the house. Indeed this was the only kind of sweeping that could be done while they were there. In fact the whole house resembled a dwelling after a tsunami when they returned to Dublin but the lovely memories lingered long after the dust had settled.
So the motto of this blog is never to fully loose touch with the innocence and joy of youth however old you get. And you can take it from this person’s ‘Gullible Travels’ that it will all prove worthwhile in the end.
Note: Photos of children and extended family have been omitted to protect their privacy.
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