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Sometimes I just really, really like my family. Not all of it, obviously, but bits of it, anyway.
Myself and the Fogues headed down to Arklow for Sunday lunch with my great aunt and uncle, as it was my great uncle's seventieth yesterday. Three of their four boys were there, and their kids. As per, I felt like a bit of an outsider around this crowd, as I'm an in-betweeny age. All the boys are thirty and up, and their kids are all under fifteen, so I'm sort of left in the middle. They're all really lovely, funny people though, and I'm just really glad I'm related to them. Apparently they'll all be coming up for a curry on St. Stephen's Day, which should be an unholy get-together and no mistake. The great aunt and uncle are the loveliest couple I know. They've been married for forty five years and they're still madly in love with each other. They're constantly giggling away to themselves at little private jokes and things. Example of their complete adorability --
"You haven't given me a kiss today, and on my seventieth birthday!"
"Oh yes I did, this morning, you've just forgotten because your mind is going funny in your old age."
"That is quite possibly true, but if I get another kiss from you out of it, it can't be that bad, can it?"
And then she laid a big smacker on him. Love. Them.
Then one of the boys made a speech, as did my great uncle, and of course they were all in tears by the end of it. The men in my family cannot get through a single celebration without tears being shed - it's clearly genetic, as none of the women have this problem.
The play last night was fantastic. I don't want to say too much about it, as the slow reveal over the course of the play is half the fun. If anyone gets the chance to see it - go. It finishes up in the Gate on the 20th, I think, but for all I know it might go on tour or something.
Facing the gauntlet in work tomorrow over kissing the boy. Ah well, it was worth it.
Myself and the Fogues headed down to Arklow for Sunday lunch with my great aunt and uncle, as it was my great uncle's seventieth yesterday. Three of their four boys were there, and their kids. As per, I felt like a bit of an outsider around this crowd, as I'm an in-betweeny age. All the boys are thirty and up, and their kids are all under fifteen, so I'm sort of left in the middle. They're all really lovely, funny people though, and I'm just really glad I'm related to them. Apparently they'll all be coming up for a curry on St. Stephen's Day, which should be an unholy get-together and no mistake. The great aunt and uncle are the loveliest couple I know. They've been married for forty five years and they're still madly in love with each other. They're constantly giggling away to themselves at little private jokes and things. Example of their complete adorability --
"You haven't given me a kiss today, and on my seventieth birthday!"
"Oh yes I did, this morning, you've just forgotten because your mind is going funny in your old age."
"That is quite possibly true, but if I get another kiss from you out of it, it can't be that bad, can it?"
And then she laid a big smacker on him. Love. Them.
Then one of the boys made a speech, as did my great uncle, and of course they were all in tears by the end of it. The men in my family cannot get through a single celebration without tears being shed - it's clearly genetic, as none of the women have this problem.
The play last night was fantastic. I don't want to say too much about it, as the slow reveal over the course of the play is half the fun. If anyone gets the chance to see it - go. It finishes up in the Gate on the 20th, I think, but for all I know it might go on tour or something.
Facing the gauntlet in work tomorrow over kissing the boy. Ah well, it was worth it.
