Christmas day goes something like this...
"Daddeeeee...he hit me...arghhhhhhhh," cries Fintan clutching at the large dent in his forehead.
"Declan - don't hit your brother...Declan - what did you hit him with?"
"Heeshus...." and he grins back at me and waves the small solid crib and baby Jesus at me before running off back to the nativity scene in the hallway at nana's house.
"Interesting choice of weapon Declan..."
I doubt that baby Jesus has ever been used in a full frontal head assault before.
We trek off to Church for Christmas Day. It's like walking to the North Pole and back. I've never seen so much snow in my life. We trudge down the middle of the road 'cos the snow is piled so high on the pavement. It is difficult to tell if small pensioners and Renault 5's are buried beneath the drifts. This is how I imagine Siberia on day fifty of a brutal winter. Not Dublin. It rains in Dublin! Which brings us on to the next problem.
"Frank! The taps aren't working...I think the pipes are frozen. It's ok. I can go outside and defrost them with a hair dryer or something. That's what our friends at home do." I suggest helpfully. As son-in-laws go - I am right up there with great ideas and ways to help out.
"It's ok Tom. The council switched off the water. Between seven at night and seven in the morning."
I look at my watch. It's well after 7am. This is highly suspicious. Resevoirs running dry in the wettest country on the planet (they don't call it the Emerald Isle for nothing)and now all this snow. Clearly - someone has misplaced Northern Europe and relocated it exactly where Tibet used to be.
On the way back down the road - I get the chance to lob a few snowballs at Fintan before Karina launches one right down my neck. We scramble up the drive that took four hours to dig clear of snow. Fintan stares at nana's car as if noticing it for the first time.
"Look at the state of your car nana," and he laughs. Only small specks of paint stick out to let you know that a tonne of metal lies beneath the pleasant fluffy white stuff.
I eat so much Turkey and Ham that I worry I've peaked too soon and left nothing back for the Christmas Desserts. Luckily - my reserve stomach kicks in (all men have them - basically - we're built like cows inside) and I'm able to absorb a merangue, chocolate sauce, custard and ice cream combo. Washed down with red wine and beer. Lovely.
On the way back to Chester a few days later, we board the ferry and spend the next three hours bouncing off our cabin walls. Declan generally beats his fists against the glass porthole and points at the sea with great excitement. Whilst Fintan has fallen in love with the Cabin Bunk beds. As mum pulls the bed down Fintan gasps (and I sh*t you not) - looks at both of us in awe as he says.
"What the Hell is that?!" in great astoundment. Never before has Fintan encountered a fold down Cabin Bunk Bed. And he's gonna make the most of it.
Three hours of random clambering and jumping ensue. An assortment of wails and crocodile tears as he bangs various bits of his body off corners and posts also ensues.
At one point, we turn our backs for a split second (hard to do in a 2 metre squared prison cell cum cabin) and Declan has somehow managed to find the giant metal ladder that neither of us noticed. And now he's unhooking it from it's stowed position and hoisting it at his brother in a menacing fashion. We thought Baby Jesus packed a punch. Five foot metal ladders pack even more!
I wrestle the ladder off him and try to hide it. This proves difficult - short of sleeping with it in the lower bunk.
I take Fintan off downstairs to play in the arcades for a while.
"Can we play this Daddy..please...please..."
I stare at "International Gamehunter" and the picture of lions and wildeebeast getting their heads blasted off by double barrels from the enticing shotguns connected to the machine.
"Fintan. We don't want to shoot animals...that's bad."
"Let's shoot Zombies instead..." I suggest. "On second thoughts..let's not.." I wander over to Time Crisis instead. A classic. Fintan takes blue gun and I take pink. Fintan shoots his foot alot and I kill baddies.
We drive an eighteen tonne rig across the dessert in America next and then race some 1000 CC bikes across a warzone. And then I take Fintan back upstairs to the cabin and wonder why he's so hyper.
As we dock into port we race for the lifts and jump in. We travel randomly up and down the lifts for five minutes stopping at every floor apart from the car decks (which are still locked off). At each floor. The lift opens. Families see us standing there. Declan grinning inanely and pressing all the buttons and Fintan doing likewise. And they opt for the stairs.
After five minutes they open up the car decks. It's just at this point that Declan presses the big yellow "ALARM" button.
"BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!"
"Declan. Declan. Don't press that button. Nooooooo!" Sarah and I yell at him. He laughs and points at us. He has learnt a new word over Christmas - which unfortunately - has no context or meaning to him as yet. But is very apt.
"NAUGHTY!" he laughs.
The lift opens at Green Deck 7 just as the alarm cuts out. No-one would be stupid enough to get in a lift with us now.
It is at this point that Lisa, Jon, Maya and Rian get in the lift and look up in utter surprise. As do we.
"No wayyyyyyyy?!?!?! You're on the boat too?! Nooooo?!"
Meeting your Chester Friends in a lift on a boat from Dublin is always a rather unlikely scenario - we exchange rapid Christmas greetings in a very confined space. (Think buggy, kids, nappy bags). And then - 2 floors later they pile out again.
"See you in Chester guys!"
The kids don't even bat an eyelid. Like these sorts of happenstance are perectly normal.
We get home. I bath the kids later that night. Fintan manages to headbutt me as he gets into the bath and Declan makes a naked bolt for it - runs into his brothers bedroom and pees all over his carpet.
"Nice one Declan..." I say as I rub my bruised forehead and mop baby p*ss from the floor.
It's good to be back...
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