Dear Rest of World ... With love, the Ireland Family
Little Leo had a great wheeze. Dad’s acting all important. And the three visitors have finally left.
Dear the rest of the world, Happy Christmas! It’s time for your annual round-robin letter from the Ireland family.
We know you look forward to getting it every year – or every quarter of a year, as has been insisted upon by the three financial advisers that we turned to for a little help three years ago, only to have them move in with us.
You’ll recall from previous letters that they were an austere trio. During their stay they did little but follow us around while putting name badges on all the food, tutting if we reached for a second glass of wine, and shaking their heads at any shop assistant who asked us, “Do you want any cash back?”
Worse, they did all this while sleeping in the best room in the house.
Anyway, friends, we can bring you good news from the domestic front: the three visitors finally moved out. In fact they left only last week. They were pushing for a farewell party, but we preferred to sneak them out of the back door late on Sunday night.
No sooner were they gone than Dad sat the whole family around the table and told us that he’s in charge of the family finances from here on in and that he has big plans for the next six years.
What those plans are he hasn’t actually told us, but he promises we’ll have a new extension, a full fridge and extra money coming in by 2020. He swore, though, that it has nothing to do with the way his moods swing in five-year cycles.
Several of the kids simply rolled their eyes cynically throughout the whole discussion, or at least that’s what we think they were doing – the Skype connection to Sydney was a bit patchy.
something or other
It has been a busy year at work for Dad. The first six months of 2013 involved some job in Brussels, a presidency of something or other that might have been just one of those silly American-style titles. (We think he was senior vice-president of Lycra a couple of years ago.)
He kept going on about it, but none of us had a clue what it meant then – and didn’t care too much, either. Still, it made him feel important for a while.
After years of bickering with each other, himself and Uncle Eamon seem to be tolerating each other for now, although it helps that Uncle Eamon has finally come through his socialism phase.