Ah, it's great to have my husband working from home. When he emerges for coffee breaks, he can join the baby in the audience of my soliloquies. On Newstalk radio today, there was a woman going on and on about how she had been through this horrible trauma of taking her child swimming at a Dublin pool where they did not allow strollers. She had to (yikes) wear her one-month-old baby in a sling the whole time and (horrors) carry the changing bag too. It was sooo awkward. OK, I mock, but I too have been through this over and over again and love to bitch and moan about it.
I said to my husband, "In any other country, they would have built a pool, and said to themselves, 'we will have swim lessons here. Therefore we shall make room for strollers, and a big changing room, and build a large parking lot so that people may enjoy our pool.' But not in Ireland, oh no, they just slap it up, have loads of problems, and don't fix any of them. And that's your news for today."
"You're telling me this!" he said, beating a speedy retreat.
In the no news stakes, there can be some pretty edifying stuff. For example, the Minister for Defence told someone to F off in the pub last week, and we spent two whole days talking about that on the news. He even went on the radio himself, claiming the person gave him a hard time about the latest government fiasco and that he told them to "bunk off, or something." Thanks for clearing that up, Minister.
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