Saturday, July 11, 2009

Dublin - so different with kids

Road Trip Day 7: The Freaks of Dublin
I remember when Angie and I went to Dublin in our B.C. (Before Children) years. Okay, bullshit; I actually don't remember most of it, which is exactly the point! I didn't know there was a park in Dublin! If you didn't need to cut through it to get to the Temple Bar District, it simply did not exist. Not in those days. Not that I remember.

Thanks to Angie adamantly insisting that we cannot bring the kids on a 'teeny, tiny, little pub crawl', I now know that Dublin has all sorts of other attractions that are not pubs, like museums and libraries and parks fitted with benches for freaks who would rather read than drink a pint or six of the glorious 'black stuff'. I also realized that you can essentially divide Dublin into two categories - fun places to go that serve Guinness and our trip today.

We have shelf after shelf of books at home, both in German and in English, but our multilingual conglomeration was apparently not sufficient for Angie. Yes, she is a book-aholic and today she must have really needed her fix. Sure, just ignore mine, bookworm!

We (ha-ha) spent hours in an Irish book shop while I took Peter and David to 'go get a healthy lunch'. At least those were my instructions. First of all, I don't do well with commands. Aside from that, 'healthy' is really up to the eye of the be-eater, isn't it? It doesn't matter, yours hungry saw Eddie Rockets diner, which not only featured a rocket; it was red, and since that's David's favorite color coupled with a mean hankering for onion rings, we went in. Onions are healthy, right?

After stuffing themselves with deep fried French fries, greasy burgers and onion necklaces, the kids and their clogged arteries were rewarded with plastic Frisbees (red) that they would later try out in the car. This would later cause a certain driver to freakin' crack up after a certain front-seat passenger got whacked in the back of the head with a red disc. Angie was not driving.

We got back to the bookstore to find Angie completely out of breath after filling the baby stroller with books.

'Can I ... have your ... credit card?'

'No, ... are you ... nuts? Can we go to a pub now?

'No, are you nuts? What did you feed the kids, anyway?'

'Uh, ... do they take Visa or MasterCard?'

Even though the stroller was pretty hard to push, I somehow got tasked with carrying Tom, who no longer fit in the book-mobile. After an hour or so, my back was looking for a liquid break. Angie chose the grassy knoll featured above instead. I was a little perturbed until I saw that Angie had finally bought little Tommy his first sensible non-fiction book.

Angie thought ugly Tom was just trying to tell us that he was hungry. Silly me just assumed that ug-boy was teething and didn't question it further, mainly because he was thankfully quiet for a change. I never ask Angie why she's not nagging. Never.

After Bench-readers Anonymous let out, we decided to stroll the streets of Dublin in search of weird people. Angie is a freak-magnet, so it didn't take long.

This guy was as still as could be. If you wanted him to move, you had to run up and throw some coinage in his money bag. Or, if you're as clever as David is, you can just run up and punch him in the groin. Man, that statue sure can move.

As it turns out, the streets of Dublin were packed with freaky weirdos.

As soon as the bear attacked us, Tom got nervous, but immediately looked at David for reassurance. Fearless Dave laughed, so all was okay. If David had so much as flinched, though, I am quite sure that Tom's lungs would have freaked out all over the oversized Yogi Bear reject.

As soon as I saw that the walking teddy monster had a vest on that advocated 'an abuse-free home for children', I couldn't resist. I had seen the cause; I had to be the rebel.

'David! Stop talking to that furry freak right now or you're going back in 'the hole' again, but this time it'll be for a whole week.'

Germans are not particularly well-known for their humor, but I can honestly say that Irish bears sporting vests are even worse. Whatever, where's your funny hat, anyway?
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we find this hotel.
David: When we danced.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When we every time need to be in the car.
David: When I cry 'cause no spring in the bed make.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go on the boat.
David: When we going on the ship.


  1. Dublin... so different with Guinness. You've just reminded me of our D.G.W.A.W.T.K trip to Dublin last year. Can't wait for a D.G.W.A.S.W.T.K rerun next year: Drink Guniness While Angie Still Watches The Kids. Greetings from Frida

  2. By the way... it's Saint Stephens's Green, isn't it. Holy moly you're a Saint over there!