My father phoned this morning to make arrangements for this weekend when we descend on his single man town house in the centre of Dublin with our three young children.
“Ok, so the next thing after you get off the bus is the fridge – It’s not like a normal fridge you see. It just has champagne in it!”
Luckily I know from having seen it before that it is capable of containing food and other, more appropriate beverages for small children – unlike the one pictured above, his house fridge is in fact a big American style thing – though admittedly I have never seen anything in it other than champagne.
“We’ll have to go to the supermarket to get things like… ‘food’… but you’ll have to come with me as I wouldn’t know what to get – you’ll know about cereal and stuff like that so I’ll wait for you to get here rather than get it wrong”.
If I’m honest, I’m beginning to feel a little bit anxious about this trip, perhaps booking a premier inn would have been safer – I’m sure some champagne will put my mind at rest though and soften the blow for dad when his various works of art get scribbled on, woollen carpet wee’d on, Farrow and Ball walls are painted with grubby hand prints and delicate crystal glasses smashed! Watch out Dad – the Dean’s are on their way!