Well, things have clearly gone out of control in the House of Brouhaha.
I only realised this when I got home from work yesterday, only to find JJ (who was off work) out on the balcony in a “right stushie” as he would call it (English translation: having a royal fit.)
At least, a “right stushie” as befits a calm, cool and collected Scotsman. That is to say, he was pacing up and down the grounds of his estate, muttering under his breath:
“That wee lassie has gone way oot of contrrrrol now. Ah’m starrtin to wonder aboot her, really ah am. This is just way over the top.”
(Why is it that, as household Mediterranean, I always get blamed for irrational behaviour?! Sheesh).
I had no idea what he was talking about until I approached closer and saw this:
How strange. Apparently Daisy had gone and gotten herself pregnant again. I mean, she was complaining about some stomach problems… but triplets?!?
Er… make that quadruplets. I wonder what happened to this one? Must have been all the second hand smoke in the house. Sigh.
JJ then glared balefully at me and said “Would ye get that one to shurrup, already?!?”
You see, despite being less than eight hours old, this one was already talking loudly (QUACKQUACKQUACKQUACK – I guess that’s why Daddy was looking after her – she knew daddy’s name already! How cute), not to mention glowing:
Hmm. Not so sure that Daisy’s the mother of this one, actually. Separated at birth, d’ya think?
Hmm… nah. I don’t think even Susie, fabulous as she is, could manage this feat all the way from Australia.
I guess that the little one is just a second-hand smoked out mutant. Guid to know that Health Canada hasn’t been lying to me all these years, I guess.
Anyway, in time honoured Brouhaha Lapsed Greek Orthodox tradition, I decided that a baptism must immediately take place. The last kid, after all, had been dunked immediately.
Father … er, Sir John Eh?
was reluctant at first. His excuse was that that it is still Lent and the Greek priests are not supposed to conduct baptisms or weddings during that time.
However, judging by the rough state of him, I think that the actual truth was that he just wanted to get in all his drinking in before Holy Week starts next week. And as regular readers will know, I’m not too big on all that stuff.
So, I simply reminded him that, as he was not actually a Greek priest but was just playing one on the blog, the usual restrictions did not apply for him. He’s a lawyer himself, but found it hard to argue with that indisputable logic.
(The little one advised me just before the dunking that she is an atheist and that I would be offending her religious freedoms under the Charter if I forced her to go through with it. At least, I assume that’s what all that irate quacking and light show was about. An excellent point. But she earned herself the name Quack Junior after her proud father for her troubles.
So, I have a little pagan mutant on my hands. This should be interesting. Hmm.)
And the names of the other three? That, in fact, is why they needed a quick baptism – it’s bad luck in the Greek culture to use their names beforehand.
Introducing, from left to right (with photos of their namesakes beneath):
Where was the nouna (godmother) by the way?
Aphrodite was there OK, just standing by. She couldn’t fit on the counter next to the sink. But check her out dressed in all her finery: not one but two Brouhaha lace creations. Obviously a woman with impeccable taste.
(There was an honourary godmother as well, unbeknownst to her: Clarabelle. This is because by happy coincidence the postman brought me a lovely week package from the UK this morning!
This is my first skein of cobweb weight [or “eye-strain weight”, as Clarabelle put it] yarn – by Posh Yarns [I’ve posted a link although it’s apparently hard to come by and Clarabelle will now most likely come over the pond to kill me in my sleep when she can’t get hold of any because of the flood of orders from the millions of people who read this blog]. It’s a 50-50 silk/cashmere blend.
The colourway is simply amazing: Mulberry. This photo does not do it justice, I can assure you.
Thanks, Clarabelle! And you even included your address, so I know where to send the bill for the trifocals that I will need to upgrade [downgrade?!] to when I get addicted to cobwebbing. Sigh.)
When the baptism was over, the festivities commenced…
… but I soon noticed Bubbles, back home from Queen’s University for the occasion (man, they grow quickly, don’t they? I don’t know where the time flew. Sniff. Sob) pouting in the corner.
Now, as you know, I’m new at this parenthood thing (or is it grandparenthood? Hmm) but I’ve heard that kids can be jealous when a new arrival shows up.
(I do hope my mother doesn’t take this opportunity to post a photo of the first photo of me with my
squalling, screaming, uglylittle brother. But maybe if she’s reading this she could scan it in and Email it to me, just for a laugh. My mother, by the way, having just learned how to use a computer a few years ago, now has more tech gadgets than me, including a scanner. How embarrassing!)
I guess I should have picked up that something was wrong when I saw Bubbles glowering earlier at the babbies (as JJ would call them) earlier.
So, I asked what was wrong. Man, that Bubbles is a real drama queen, I must say. Hir issues:
(a) they got a bigger baptismal font than he did:
(KB’s INSIDE VOICE: there were three of them, dammit!!! What the $#*@$&^@#*& do you expect?!)
(b) they got a bigger candle than he did. And it was silver coloured.
(KB’s INSIDE VOICE: but you got my all time favourite purple candle. Bloody ingrate.)
I managed to explain this to Bubbles in a more or less rational way. But s/he still insisted on whining:
(c) they got hats and s/he didn’t!!
Actually, good point – but easily solved.
I even threw in hir favourite fruit for good measure.
But this still wasn’t good enough. Guess I caved too easily on the hat issue. S/he wheedled, begged and whined about the fact that hir little sibling got a gun too:
FINE. JJ, just to shut hir up, donated his pigeon-chasing implement:
Man, this grandparenting thing is difficult. But all is quiet this morning – I guess everyone’s content, thank goddess. And I can just toss them in a drawer if they act up, I guess. Hmm.
5 thoughts on “… and then there were… SEVEN?!?!”
Ah Kristina….even with me light I could not have managed it from OZ! I note that you are quickly learning the way of kids – they are never bloody happy……one always has what the others want and visa versa……..even when they get into their 30’s. I’m waiting for mine to grow up – if they ever do!