One daze at a time...

By Raheny_Eye

A mediocre stand-up comedian's dream

I love my kids.

Well, tonight I do. The rest of the time they are mostly a massive pain in the arse.

What I like most about them (well, tonight anyway) is how easy it is to make them laugh.

There is no less demanding audience than two kids under the age of nine who have just ran out of excuses in their attempt to delay bed time until the Irish banks have restored the nation's faith in their integrity. Or the arrival of the five horsemen of the apocalypse, whichever comes first.

Repetition for them (my kids, not the horsemen of the apocalypse, who tend to specialise in one-off shows) is not a source of boredom. It is to the contrary the very essence of their hilarity (we can't really see it in Mimi's reaction there, she was scratching her eye before laughing heartily at her dad's joke).

They have a few favourites. Tonight's was the over emphatic "MY GOD!!! We forgot to do the homework!!!! MY GOD!!! Quick, quick, get your clothes back on and let's go downstairs and do your homework. QUICK!!!"
It's their favourite nighttime joke on a Friday night, Saturday night, or night before their school is requisitioned for a presidential election.

Another classic is the walking-back-into-their-bedroom-3-minutes-after-putting-them-to-bed-and-greeting-them-with-a-jovial-"GOOD MORNING!!!"
They are especially fond of that one. Especially when I do the very stressed "OH MY GOD!!! Quick! Quick! We are going to be late for school! Quick, get dressed!"
A slight variation is doing the same routine on a Saturday or Sunday morning after breakfast. Or on the day of a presidential election.
After about 30 seconds of mirth, they go: " but Daaaaad, there is no school today" (in tone of voice that spells "you big dufus you" and I come to my sense and go "oh... right"

PS: yes Oldmills, it is Nana Lynott with the afro in the background

Today we handed in Luca's resignation from the Harold School. It felt good. It has been a lot more traumatic and a lot less funny than the Harold Lloyd's School we had tried to sell him.

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