People like us.

That's what they're not. Kids I mean. They may look like regular people, only smaller, but I found out one thing this weekend, and that's that they are NOT regular people. They're little weirdos. In a cute, nice way... but weirdos all the same.

So I called around to this Mom's house. She lives in Kilmainham, a cool area to live, because the houses are old and pretty, and you're near downtown and the Museum of Modern Art, which has a big, huge park all round it. I would go to that park ALL THE TIME if I lived around there. You don't have to go to the museum to go in, it's just a big old patch of green in the middle city, and there's even one of those fancy French-style gardens. Not sure of the technical term.

Anything. The kids are there waiting for me. We'll call the girl "Emma" and the boy "Albert". Albert goes, "I made a picture for you" and shows it to me. It's of my tombstone with "Died 2010" written on it in squiggly crayon writing. As a student of gothic literature, I think this is kind of a nice touch, but the Mom gets all embarrassed and grabs it and makes him apologise. So we maybe didn't get off to the best of starts. Better that than the silent hostility emanating from Emma. Which I pretend I don't notice. I can understand that they are a little resentful because they're obviously used to having their Mom to themselves all Saturday and now that she's started a new business she's not going to be around weekends for a while. For me, that's 70 Euros I wouldn't have otherwise had. But for the kids, it's something they're not so happy about. And believe me, I'm gonna be earning those Euros. Fortunately, the Mom is one of those Supermoms, so every week she'll more or less tell me what she wants the kids to do, and we'll do it. My job is to be nice, stop Albert and Emma from killing each other, and get them there and back in one piece. Then I heat up the meal their Mom has left in the fridge, we all eat it and by the time I've put the plates in the dishwasher, the Mom comes back and I've got money to go out for the evening. This weekend, we went to a storytelling in the National Art Gallery. I even enjoyed it too! Although there were so many kids there, I've probably got cooties or something.

After the show, Albert looks at me really seriously and goes, "If I don't have ice cream I'll probably die, and then you'll be in trouble with my mother."

Soooo... I have never been a very patient person, but I am going to have to start channeling it now, that's for sure.


Anyway, flush with cash, I met up with Saoirse and some other friends and we went to The Church. That place is amazing! It actually used to be a church, so there's always a moment when you think, "Maybe I shouldn't be knocking back the beers in here.." A cute guy bought me a drink. There were no sparks and nothing happened, but still. Thanks, cute guy. That was just what my ego needed right then, after taking quite the bruising a week ago.