It's not that Mimi is eager or anything...
But it looks like she is ready to cut the ombilical cord of primary school education.
So tomorrow is her last day. And I took a day off work from the Repair Factory. Because apparently finishing primary school is a big deal.
There have been hundreds of emails in the last five weeks. I am not joking. Hundreds. With tons of overenthusiastic cretins who do not know what the BCC field is for in an email and who insist on copying ever Tom, Dick and Harry in their inate self-congratulory drivel.
It's not just Mimi who is ready to cut the ombilical cord of primary school...
I may have been enable to withold a natural propensity for sarcasm at some stage. It didn't go down well. It didn't go down well at all.
But fuck that, it was totally worth it.
Thank you for all the time and effort put into the organisation of this year's graduation extravaganza. They are a lucky generation.
I remember vividly my own graduation, from Université de Nancy II. It consisted of waiting for 20 minutes in a bleak corridor for a bleak civil servant to come and sellotape three A4 sheets on the Notice Board of Lament. The celebration started when you found your name on the list. The more exuberant might say something like "wow, brilliant, your name is there. Isn't that great, now get on with life..."
We'll, I am delighted that our young ones have something less frugal lined up for them.
My own lack of organisation would have meant a couple of ham sandwiches, a bag of Taytos and a carton of Ribena on Dalkey Hill. And letting them run together like mad eedjits for a while. For the most adventurous, a swim in the drizzle at Sandycove (I do it all the time, it is both tremendous fun and free).